Commitaphobia
by PartizzleUpInHerr
Summary: Hermione tends to go out with the smart guys. After catching Ron with someone who is not his girlfriend, Fred and she go on a “secret mission,” and hilarity and romance ensue. FredHermione
1. Hermione Hayes

**Commitaphobia**

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter, and I own nothing.

**Summary**: Hermione breaks up with her current boyfriend – again. It actually seems to be a bad habit of hers. However, when Fred and she go on a "secret mission," hilarity and romance ensue.

**Chapter 1**: Hermione Hayes

**Author's Note**: First of all, thank you for taking the time to read this. However, I do not write review-thanks at the end of every one of my chapters. They simply take up space. Completely unnecessary. However, this is not to say I am not grateful for reviews. I feed off them. They _do_ make me want to write. Next-ly, there is brief mention of another character – Chris Hayes – but he is not a main character and is only occasionally referred to. He is simply setting up the plot. So no worries about that.Now, with that being said, on with the story.

**_May 12th – in my dormroom – 12:00 noon _**

A quick update on my current love life is all I have time for: I absolutely am in love with the most adorable boy – Chris Hayes. He kissed me! Finally! It was... I don't know; it was wonderful! More on that subject later. I've got to go eat lunch with Chris. He's waiting for me! We're walking to the hall together.

_Hermione Granger_

P.S. 108 percent on my transfiguration test! Quite good, if I do say so myself.

_**May 25th – on the carriage ride to Hogsmeade – 10:00 am**_

I _love_ Chris Hayes. No time to write about him now, though. He's taking me out to eat in Hogsmeade!

_Hermione Granger_

**_May 27th – in front of the fire – 11:31 pm_**

I just now finished my homework. I'm so busy lately! What between Chris and schoolwork and my soon-to-be internship at the Ministry of Magic. Anyways, I'm tired so I'm going to bed.

_Hermione Granger Hayes_

P.S. Have I mentioned I absolutely love Chris?

**_May 30th – on the train going to the Weasleys – 1:29 pm_**

My parents are going on a cruise, and they decided to let me stay at Ron's all summer. I'm so sad! When I go to Ron's house I'll rarely (if ever) be able to see Chris! What will I do without him? I know Mrs. Weasley would welcome him into the Burrow with open arms anytime, but I don't want to impose on her. Oh! I have to go! Chris wants to talk to me!

**_June 1st - at the Burrow – midnight_**

I'm trying as hard as I can to write quietly and quickly (too late for the rest of the household), but I have so much to say. So many confusing thoughts running through my head! I can hardly move my quill fast enough.

Well, I don't know how to say this, so I'll come straight out with it. I broke up with Chris.

Oh God, just looking at it in writing makes me feel sick. I don't know why I did it. Ok, well I do, but it's not a real reason. I think it's my past disease come back to haunt me.

Yes, _that_ disease. The one that forces me out of every relationship I've ever had. The one that makes me crush people's hearts under my feet. The one that causes me just as much aggravation as the next person. The one that's too constant to be acceptable. I can't help it. It's like it controls my body, the words and actions just pushing their way up and out of my muscles.

Starting from the beginning? Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

Like I said in my last entry, Chris _did_ want to talk to me on the train ride home. He led me out of the compartment I was sharing with Ron and Harry, and he brought me into an empty one. At first I was ecstatic – I love being with Chris.

However, he simply gently took my hand in his and looked into my eyes. Did I mention he has really pretty eyes? They're an odd sort of mix between grey and blue – kind of like cold silver with a light frost – entrancing in an odd sort of way, and they'll sort of suck you in so that you want to just stay where you're standing forever and – _oh my God _I _cannot_ believe I am writing about my ex-boyfriend's eyes right now!

Anyways... After just staying like that for a second, with my hand in his, he leaned forward and gave me a small kiss on the lips. Nothing big or wet or incredibly passionate, but it was very romantic all the same.

After our lips were separate again, he said the three words. Yes, THE three words. For me, the most dreaded words I could possible ever hear. "I love you."

I can only imagine my face – blanched, scared, and horrified all at once. Of course, I attempted at once to cover it up. I smiled and nodded weakly at him. Not knowing what else to do, I said, "Why thank you, you are very kind."

Can you say not the answer he was looking for! He gave me this tight-lipped smile and then a small nod before leaving the compartment.

Ok, ok, so what's the big deal, you may ask. What is wrong with this boy saying that he loves me when I write it all the time in my diary? I asked myself the same thing. So I made a list of things that were wrong:

1. He was too serious about it. Maybe he should've made the "three little words" into a song? (Must try sometime).

2. There were no roses. How can you say that to a girl without having any roses around?

3. It was anticlimactic. No intense making out. No sudden burning desire of passion. No knee-weakening, sky-opening kiss. What's up with that?

4. When he took my hands he held them too tightly. Seriously, I'm lucky I didn't have to get them amputated completely off for lack of circulation.

5. When I write, "I love Chris," in my diary, I really mean: I am heavily infatuated with Chris. Whereas when he said, "I love you," it sounded like he really meant: I love you.

Ummm... I can't think of anymore. Oh! I know! How about the one real, true-blue reason?

6. I can't handle commitment, and some sort of weird spasm controls my body as I break up with guys after they become too serious. Hmm... shall we call it commitaphobia? I think so.

Ugh, someone's awake and moving around downstairs. What's someone (besides me) doing up at one in the morning? I'll write more tomorrow.

_Hermione Granger_

**_June 2nd – Ginny's and my room – 1:00 pm_**

I just woke up. Yes, and it's 1:00 in the afternoon! I don't know what I was thinking! Waking up this late makes me feel like I've wasted the day when there's new homework to tackle, books to memorize, and parents to write. I must have forgotten to set my alarm last night after going downstairs to get a snack.

Which brings me to my next topic: last night, after I finished writing in this lovely book, I went downstairs to get a snack, forgetting that I had previously heard someone walking around down there.

As I was expecting to be alone, you could imagine my shock when I saw one of the twins (at the time I couldn't tell which – it was dark) pulling down a chocolate frog packet from a shelf. I must've jumped about a foot in the air.

"Fr- Geo- Freorge!" I hissed, not realizing how ridiculous I must've sounded. But hey, I was tired. "What are you doing down here?"

Moonlight poured in through the bay window located behind the chair "Freorge" was standing in. He straightened quickly, and then visibly relaxed when he realized it was me. "Why, my lovely Hermione, I am quite frankly hurt. Have you not learned to tell me and my dear twin apart, yet?"

To be honest, I began seething. I had just broken up with my boyfriend, and I was _not_ in the mood. I told him so, and then told him that I knew perfectly well he was Fred. Years back, I learned that George has more of a structured face then Fred. Since my third year, I don't think I've mistaken them once.

Fred jumped back, looking hurt. "I'm George!" he said indignantly.

I squinted at him in the darkness. I had been almost one hundred percent positive that it was Fred, but I shrugged. What did it really matter?

I moved to get a cup out of the cabinets in order to get myself a glass of milk, but Fred/George moved into my way.

A bit confused, and still annoyed, I said, "Excuse me," very pointedly and tried to move past him. However, once again, he moved into my path, and I bumped into him. I looked at him questioningly.

"Not until you say sorry for confusing me with Fred," he said, grinning mischievously.

"I'm s – " then I stopped and looked carefully at the twin. I was almost completely sure that this boy was Fred, not George as he claimed. What the hell, I decided to go out on a limb. "You're not George," I said firmly. "You are definitely Fred."

Without missing a beat, the twin looked at me funny and said, "What? I'm George..."

I was at a loss. I didn't know how to prove that I was right. (For I am almost always right). That is – until I remembered something Mrs. Weasley had told me a long time ago. Fred is ticklish, George isn't.

This time I'm sure _I_ was the one grinning mischievously. I took a single step closer than I already was so that my nose almost bumped his chest. Fred (for I was sure it was him) looked down at me, confused. My hands suddenly darted out and I began tickling him like mad, which wasn't hard because his chest was quite bare.

With a loud shriek, Fred grabbed his sides, but I didn't let up. I continued to tickle him like crazy, and I found myself smiling for the first time in the last day as he sank to floor trying to protect his stomach.

Kind of odd if you ask me. I've never smiled this much right after a break-up – not that I've had that many break-ups in my life. Counting the last one... I've had three (Viktor, Harry, and now Chris).

Anyways, after about ten seconds of torturing him with my tickling, Fred managed to gasp out through bursts of laughter and giggles (yes, Fred _giggled_), "I give up! I give up! You win! I'm Fred!"

Because I'm such a fair sport, I stopped, and Fred, hugging his knees to his chest, sat there gasping for air with a huge smile on his face. I grinned at him and offered my hand to help him up. He accepted it, and I remember that his hand was _huge_! It like engulfed mine. Quidditch player's hands. And, while I'm already off on a tangent, I also noticed he had very nice Quidditch player's abs when I was tickling him senseless. (Not that I would ever tell him or anyone else for that matter. I mean, Ginny would find it just gross, and at the moment she's the only one I could talk about that with).

_Anyways_, back on subject (I get so easily distracted sometimes!). After I had helped Fred up, he asked, "Who told you that I was ticklish?"

"Your mum," I said. Then I added, "But she didn't tell me you squeal like a girl."

Fred attempted to look hurt. "I'm appalled that you would say such things!" but he grinned good naturedly and got down two cups from the cabinet he had been blocking before. I moved to take one, but he shooed me away and began to pour two glasses of milk.

Fred handed me one and set out a plate of cookies. "So," Fred said once he was positioned at the table across from me, "what brings you here so early in the morning?"

I automatically glanced at my watch and realized with a start that it was 1:15 in the morning. Crazy!

"Well I was just coming down for a snack is all," I said, "but I really should – " ...be getting to bed is what I was going to say, but Fred cut me off.

"What a coincidence!" he said jovially. "Me too!"

"Umm..." was my clever response. Why was he staring at me so intently?

"Well, as a snack, why don't you have a cookie," he said loudly, indicating the plate in front of us.

"Um, ok..." I said, unsure of why he was pushing me to eat. I was about to put it in my mouth when I saw a small glint appear in Fred's eyes. I immediately put the cookie down.

"What did you do to it?" I asked, standing up.

"Who me?" he asked, looking around as if I could possible be talking to someone else.

"No," I said sarcastically, "I was talking to my imaginary friend."

Fred shook his head. "Fine, I admit it. There might be something in the cookies, but you have to promise to still leave them here for people in the morning if I tell you what it is."

This took some debating. You see, if I were to leave these cookies here, I could be partner to some serious chaos that will ensue. However, I couldn't help but begin to imagine Ron's face as he bit into a cookie and he sprouted a tail (or something along those lines). Ok, maybe this wasn't such a hard decision. "Fine."

"Whoever eats them will grow a second head and five more legs."

My stomach sank in horror. What had I just done? There was no way I could leave these to the rest of the household!

"Just kidding!" Fred exclaimed, reaching forward and flicking my forehead by using his thumb and index finger. "They just make whoever eats them have multi colored hair for a day or two. They're our new test product right now. The chocolate chips in them are actually a mix of dyes and – " here's where Fred lost me. He began talking about potions and formulas and 2:1 ratios of certain ingredients. At the time it was semi-interesting, but now I can't remember it to save my life. Who ever knew Fred was so smart? (That sounds awfully mean, but it's true!)

Fred ended his five-minute lecture with, "It's quite simple, really."

I raised my eyebrows and looked at him. I mean, I didn't know what to say! Fred... smart. It just doesn't seem to go together!

"What?" Fred asked, presumably in response to the look I was giving him.

I decided to go with the truth. "I just never knew you were so smart." When I saw him about to open his mouth in his defense, I jumped in. "I mean, I knew you must have been somewhat intelligent in order to do all those pranks – and creative. I just meant I didn't know you were book smart."

Fred grinned. "I'm full of surprises," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

I laughed and couldn't help but push his shoulder playfully. But when I did I saw my watch. 2:00 in the morning! What was I thinking? Staying up that late?

Anyways, that was my adventurous rendezvous last night with Fred. Odd, isn't it? I've never thought of me and Fred as friends, but that's sort of what we are now, I guess.

And I don't know why I never thought of him like that. Wait, yes I do. He's immature. And loud and obnoxious. And he was constantly plaguing me when I was prefect. It was impossible to control him. That's precisely why we were never friends. Maybe having his own business for a while has changed him a little?

Who knows?

Who cares, really?

_Hermione Granger_

**_June 5th – hiding from the house in a closet – 5:00 pm_**

OH MY GOD!

OOOOOH.

MY.

GOD.

I am in shock. I am at a loss for words. And in case you don't understand, that never happens. I am horrified. I am so confused. I am appalled. I am agog with the previous happenings. I am struck speechless. I am dreading to write this. I am stunned. I am dumbfounded. I am pissed. I am overwhelmed with anger. I am livid. I am going to hit something. I am going to cry. I am furious. I am positively potent with anger. _I am going to kill Ron!_

I can't write right now. Later, I promise. Right now, I'm going to hunt down that red-headed, cheating, lying bastard and curse him 'til his eyes roll back in his head and he can't move a single muscle.

_Hermione Granger_


	2. The BWWNE

**Commitaphobia**

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter, and I own nothing.

**Summary**: Hermione breaks up with her current boyfriend – again. It actually seems to be a bad habit of hers. However, when Fred and she go on a "secret mission," hilarity and romance ensue.

**Chapter 3: **The BWWNE

**Author's Note**: I can't believe I'm doing _another_ author's note. You must understand, I normally rarely write these – they are so unnecessary and time-consuming. However, I think it's important to say that if you want your e-mail address to show up when leaving a message you must write it out as "SoAndSo at cox dot net". Or else it will be deleted. So... my apologies to those I did not send an e-mail to (Stella Blu and "blah"), I could not read your e-mail address. (And also, a response to Hermione being out of character... I honestly don't think she is. You must remember she is writing in her diary. These _are_ her innermost thoughts, and I don't think that she would act so stuffy in her own diary). Anyways, continue reviewing and reading please!

**_June 5th – in Ginny's and my room – 5:40 PM_**

I've calmed down a bit since my last entry. I am no longer going to kill Ron. Maybe just break a few bones. A rib or two. Nothing too dramatic.

And, surprisingly enough, the person who calmed me down was Fred Weasley. Odd. When I was Prefect, he was always the person to infuriate me most. What with blowing things up and his and George's quick schemes. True, he was also the person most likely to make me laugh. Often, the sight of Filch's face has been priceless, and well-worth the lost points to Gryffindor. (But I couldn't say it out loud. Prefects aren't allowed to!)

However, I suppose I should start from the complete beginning, with the beginning being that we all went to Diagon Alley this morning. It was sunny and bright, and Mrs. Weasley thought it would be a nice treat to go and window shop. Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and Percy didn't come, but that's it. Even Fred and George allowed someone else to run their shop for the day.

Once we arrived I headed straight for Flourish and Blotts. I've been meaning to pick up some new reads lately anyways. (I got the books AP Transfiguration for the Studious Witch or Wizard, Divination Schmivination, and German Aurors of the Late Fifteenth Century. All fascinating reads!)

Of course, I was the only one who wanted to go there. I'm pretty sure Harry went with Ginny to look at a new quidditch store that just opened. Fred and George went to Zonko's to "check out the competition." Mrs. Weasley went off looking for a magical weed-killer for some sort of nasty infection her garden had. And then... Ron _said_ he was going off to find his girlfriend of forever, Ellen.

Well... when I got to Flourish and Blotts, I began thumbing through books. And, you know me, eventually I was so engrossed in a particularly interesting book about the contrast between muggle and magical schools that I about jumped out of my skin when someone came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.

I swung around, holding my hand to my heart, and saw – who else – Fred Weasley.

"Oh my _God_, did you scare me!" I said, swatting his arm.

Fred laughed and nimbly stepped out of the way of my attempted smack. "Fancy meeting you here," he said, nodding at the piles of books in my arms.

I rolled my eyes and snapped shut the book I had been reading. I moved to walk over to the register – when the books started leaning precariously to the side. Fred quickly rescued the books from my arms and balanced them carefully in his own. As he did so he must've seen some of the titles.

"A Hundred Ways to Begin a Potions Essay?" Fred asked. He glanced at the spines of the other books. "The War of 1781: A Biography on James Pittwitt, The Inventor of the _Liberos_ Charm? Hermione!" Fred sounded appalled. "You're not taking potions next year! You're majoring in transifguration! I have honestly never seen such willingly-read boring books before!"

I imagine that I sniffed angrily (it's pretty much my automatic response) as I snatched a few books out his arms. "Just because I'm not taking potions doesn't mean it can't be helpful!"

Fred held up his arms in mock defeat. "Ok, ok, Miss Head Girl. Whatever you say!"

Ok, I admit it, I couldn't help but be a bit pleased at his words. "I'm not Head Girl yet, Fred!" I know I must've blushed at least a little bit. "Where's George?" I suddenly realized that Fred was missing his other half.

Fred laughed. I noticed he does that a lot. And he has one of _those_ laughs, where it's infectious and makes you want to laugh. A good laugh. Like it bubbles up from somewhere deep inside of him. And it always seems that he truly finds whatever he's laughing at funny. You know?

And he said, "He's over there flirting with some chick."

Indeed, George was flirting up a storm with the pretty girl behind the counter. It seemed to be working, too. The girl was laughing and batting her eyelashes. Honestly, some women will go gaga over a pair of nice brown eyes!

"Uh huh," I said as I went up to pay for the few books that I had selected from my large pile. Once I had paid for them I returned to Fred. "Should we leave them alone?" I asked, indicating George and his newly found girl. George was whispering something in her ear, and it seemed she found it very funny.

Fred shrugged and glanced at his watch. "Sure, let's wait outside," he said. "We should meet everyone soon anyways."

So, we stepped out into the breezy, gorgeous sunshine. It was an absolutely beautiful day. The kind with the birds out and children running around screaming with dripping ice cream cones in hand.

"It's a nice day," I said as I saw the sun glitter and dance on a fountain. "Really pretty."

Suddenly I realized Fred was giving me an incredulous look.

"What?" I asked (kind of defensively. I had said nothing wrong!)

"You've known me for six years, Hermione! And here you have to resort to talking about the weather!"

I couldn't help it, I started laughing. Fred can be so funny sometimes! "Fred!" I said, giggling. "It was an honest comment!"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Honest comment, my ass! You couldn't think of anything else better to say? How about... 'Fred, I think you're incredibly good looking!' Or, 'Fred, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've become a strapping young man!'"

Even though it probably wasn't that funny, I laughed even harder, and Fred joined me.

Suddenly, though I spotted Ron... with a girl.

I elbowed Fred. "Look," I said, nodding my head at Ron and the girl. They were walking away from us. Funny, I hadn't even seen them walk by I had been laughing so hard.

Now, this wouldn't've been too big of a deal – Ron with a girl. We all knew Ron had a girlfriend, Ellen Freemont. I can barely remember who asked who, it seems so long ago, but I'm pretty sure she asked Ron. He doesn't have the guts to ask anyone out on a date.

Ever since October (yes, that's nine months!) they've been dating, and up until now I thought they were completely devoted to each other. You know, making kissy-face in the common room and throwing notes with lipstick kisses on them during class. All that mushy disgusting stuff.

The thing was – this girl was definitely not Ellen Freemont, Ron's girlfriend.

So when Fred started to walk toward Ron with the purpose of saying hi, I had to stop him.

"Fred!" I hissed, pulling him back by his sleeve. "Don't!"

"Oi!" Fred said. "What're you doing?" He pulled his robes out of my hand. "I was going to say hi to my brother."

"Look who your brother's with!" I whispered to Fred as I pulled him back into the doorway of Flourish and Blotts.

"Er... His girlfriend?"

"No!" I said. "That's not Ellen! Her hair is longer then Ellen's! And that girl's got a bigger... er..." I could feel my face heat up as Fred looked at me questioningly. "...butt," I finished.

Fred peeked around the corner. "I s'pose you're right," he said. "But what's Ron doing with that girl? He said he was meeting Ellen."

"I don't know," I said, glancing back around the doorway carefully (to get a better look).

Ron definitely looked like he was up to _something_. He kept sneaking furtive looks behind him as if he were afraid someone was following him. However, as I watched, a crowd of people passed in front of Ron and soon enough him and his friend disappeared from sight.

"I wonder if Ron's going to get Ellen a present," Fred mused. "I'm pretty sure he went into that jewelry store over there. I bet he got that girl to give him advice." Fred pointed into the store that had a sparkling sign that flashed in slowly between all the colors in the spectrum. It spelled out, _Dabbling in Diamonds_.

Suddenly a glint appeared in Fred's eyes. "We should follow him! Catch him in the act of buying Ellen's gift! Then I bet you that I could blackmail him into testing at least the next two of George's and my potions. We need a new test subject soon."

"Fred!" I admonished him.

"Please," Fred begged, stretching his brown eyes wide. He looked somewhat like a golden retriever, begging to be taken for a walk. "Even if you don't come, I'll go without you."

"What about George?" I asked, glancing back into Flourish and Blotts where George must've still been flirting with the clerk.

Fred rolled his eyes. "He doesn't want me around while he's hitting on some girl, anyways."

Which was a good point. This may sound funny, but before today I have always sort of thought of Fred and George collectively. As if they were one person. However, I'm beginning to see differences outside the physical ones (George's face is more defined whereas Fred had more of soft angles. Fred is ticklish – George isn't. Fred has a scar on the back of his neck from a run-in with a nasty pitbull, George doesn't.) For example, while both George and Fred seem to pursue girls with a passion (Parvati said their funniness and "roguish charm" (her words, not mine) make them "prime candidates"), George seemed more interested in continuing things after he had gotten a hint. Fred seemed more like the person who would get a number and then "lose it" the next day. Kinda like me and my Commitaphobia. Maybe we're both Commitaphobic. We could be a Commitaphobic couple and have Commitaphobic children (HA!). Maybe the twins aren't as alike as I always thought.

After Fred and I had made our way to the window, we peered in, looking for the tell-tale sign of candied apple red hair. We actually quickly spotted him looking at rings with the brunette-who-was-not-Ellen (BWWNE).

These were rings like I had never seen before, though. They sparkled and shined like diamonds, yes, but I never knew that diamonds could change colors like they were. It looked like one particular one changed to the color that would best compliment what you were wearing. They were _amazing_! One diamond was in the shape of a beetle and seemed to scuttle around on a ring. Marvelous!

The BWWNE was pointing to the specific ring that changed colors, and she could be presumed to be squealing over it. She was pointing at it excitedly and nodding her head.

Ron smiled at her and called over a salesperson.

I heard an exasperated sigh beside me. "I don't know what he thinks he's doing. That must be at least twenty galleons."

The smiling salesperson took out the ring and handed it to the BWWNE to try on. When she put it on her finger, it glittered madly and then changed to a glorious shade of blue, which matched her deep robes perfectly.

I could see the BWWNE nodding her head excitedly at Ron. As if on cue, Ron pulled out his wallet and handed the salesperson fifteen galleons.

I looked over at Fred and saw his mouth drop. "That must be over a year's worth of savings! He must really like Ellen," Fred said, shaking his head.

Suddenly I saw something that made my mouth drop. Not being able to speak, I hit Fred and pointed into the glass.

And there was Ron, kissing the BWWNE (now stands for bitch-who-was-not-Ellen). Not just a peck on the cheek, either. I'm talking full-fledged, mouths open, hands on each-other's backs kissing.

I heard Fred swear loudly as he jumped back from the window. Several people turned and looked at him, shaking their heads. He simply shot them all dirty looks.

Fred, balling his hands up into fists, began to march into the store muttering. "Stupid git... I'll teach him... Treat a lady with respect!... Wait 'til mum finds out!... I'm gonna... What will Ellen say?... Beat Ron..."

However, right as Fred reached the door, I grabbed his arm and yanked him out of sight, right before Ron and the BWWNE exited _Dabbling in Diamonds_.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fred asked. "I'm going to teach that – " he broke off into a string of not-so-nice-words " – a lesson."

While I was led to believe the worst at the time, I tried to explain my reasoning to Fred. "It might not be what it looks."

Fred looked at me with disbelief in his brown eyes. "Not what it seems!" he almost shrieked. "He was practically oiling her throat with his tongue."

I'll admit it, I blushed. I couldn't help it. It's rare that I talk with a guy about stuff like this. "Yes, I know," I said. "But they could be... just... friends." I faltered at the end.

Fred rolled his eyes and looked like he was about to run after Ron, so I kept talking (although now I don't know why I did it. I should've let Fred pound Ron into a pulp. I must not have been thinking straight!)

"It could very well not be what it looks like. I mean, as far as any of us knew, Ron was in love with Ellen! He wouldn't shut up about her! It was Ellen this, Ellen that. It's not like him to go off and cheat on her. Plus if he finds out that we spied on him he'll be irate."

Fred shook his head. "You don't understand, I – "

George suddenly bounced up. "Why does everyone look so grim?" he asked.

Fred began to speak, "Ron – "

I stepped on Fred's foot, hard. I didn't know how else to shut him up, but it worked. Fred clammed up and gave me a dirty look.

I couldn't help but poke my tongue out at him.

"Ron...?" George prodded.

"Nothing," Fred said casually. I was surprised at how easily Fred lied, even to his twin. "Never mind."

George seemed satisfied. He lifted up a ripped piece of parchment he held in his hands. "I got her number," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Fred glanced at me, giving me a look that clearly stated "we'll talk about this later." However, he turned to his twin and high-fived him. "Rock on," Fred said.

George kept right on grinning like there was something else.

"What?" Fred asked.

"And I secured a date for you, my man. She seemed very impressed." George used a high falsetto voice. "There's two of you! My goodness!"

And, this is going to sound funny, but I suddenly got this little pang. I know it sounds odd, but I don't think it was jealousy. No, I KNOW it wasn't jealousy. It was more like... possessiveness. Like I've been hanging out with Fred a lot. Ok, not a lot, but a little more then usual. I don't know, but I didn't like it one bit when George said that. Or at least, I didn't until I snapped myself out of it. This is one of the Weasley twins I was talking about!

Fred glanced at me for a second, and I tried to look nonchalant by raising my eyebrows. Fred grinned and said, "Sounds good to me!"

Personally, I was appalled. He didn't even ask the day or time! Or her name! What if he had already had plans? What was he thinking? I was compelled to say something but managed to keep my mouth shut.

"So," George said, obviously trying to break the semi-tense silence that had fallen on our little group, "who's up for some ice cream?"

So, of course, the three of us went for ice cream. It was kinda weird, sitting there with Fred and George Weasley. I mean, you would think I'd feel like a third wheel or something, but I didn't. And, surprisingly enough, I didn't get annoyed at them once. Ok, I did ONCE when I caught George trying to slip a powder into my ice cream that would cause my ears to grow larger then average. But other then that, neither of them tried anything. Shocking, I know!

Unfortunately, the fun ended there. Soon enough we caught up with the rest of the Weasleys, including one very rumpled looking Ron ("I, er, tripped and fell on the ground.")

And, I know this'll sound strange, but I had almost (_almost_) forgotten about the Ron-incident. But the second I saw him again I got this sinking feeling in my stomach. And by the look on Fred's face, he was having the same feelings.

Once we got home, it was hard to find a chance to talk with Fred. He was always either with George, or I was with Ginny.

This is about the time when I started to get MAD. How dare Ron make us go through this! How dare he break my – and Ellen's – trust! What was he thinking! I became so angry I was practically in tears! That's when I wrote the last diary entry...

But, at one point, Fred and I were finally able to sneak off together. Fred led me into his room and shut the door, then turned to face me.

Honestly, I was expecting some kind of wrath. Such as, "How dare you make me wait to pummel Ron?"

Instead, Fred said (very calmly), "I've been thinking about what you said."

This took a lot of guts, admitting I was wrong, but I did it. "And I've been thinking about what YOU said! You really had every right to beat Ron. I shouldn't have stopped you from yelling at your own brother, and it really was silly of me. Actually, I wouldn't mind watching you snap off his head right now."

Fred smiled wickedly. "Actually... I think quite the opposite. Perhaps you were right, Hermione."

I coughed... choked on my own spit. "What?"

"Well, yes, it is possible it wasn't what it seemed, and I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. However – " he cut me off as I was about to say something "I can't help but thinking: what if he was cheating on Ellen?"

I nodded my head.

"But if he is, let's make him suffer," Fred said, grinning madly.

"What?" I asked.

"Well, maybe if we made him see what he did was wrong, he'll repent without us doing anything like telling people. Because if we were wrong about him cheating, it could be drastic. But... if we were right, maybe he'll admit it on his own terms."

"And how are we going to do all this?" I was obviously very skeptical. Who wouldn't be!

"You forget who you're speaking with. I am the master of scheming," Fred said, scratching his head. "But I'll coach you phase-by-phase. It'll all work out, love," he said, winking at me.

"I'm still not so sure this is a good idea," I said, but I was losing conviction. Making Ron feel guilty did sound wonderfully pleasing. "But then again... we never saw the girl's face. Maybe it was Ellen!"

"Right!" Fred said. "We need to figure this out! I'm starting to lean more and more toward this is a misunderstanding on our part. I really don't think Ron would ever do... something like that. Especially after... you know."

And I do know. In the very beginning of our sixth year, Ron dated Parvati. He seemed to be completely head over heels for her. Unfortunately, he walked in on Parvati and Dean Thomas together. He was crushed for almost a month. Luckily, he found Ellen to draw him out of his post-cheating depression.

"So, just leave it to me," Fred said. He turned to leave with a small smile and a wave to me.

"Oh, and Hermione?"

"Yeah?" I asked.

"As for that big mouth of yours," he said pointing to my lips. "Well, shut it. Not even George can know." Then he walked out and just left me standing here.

He can be so infuriating! Yet so endearing at the same time... Does that make any sense? He's a brazen flirt, though. It's a pity, really. I remember it caused many a heartbreak at school. What with Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet and Jessie Donnel. And well, George and him combined? It caused quite a ruckus.

_Hermione Granger_

**_June 6th – Outside in the Garden – Noon Thirty_**

Fred and I have just come up with the first phase of our plan. It's brilliant really! It's time to go carry it out, but I will write as SOON as it's done... promise...

_Hermione Granger_


	3. Status: Commencing

**Commitaphobia**

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter, and I own nothing.

**Summary**: Hermione breaks up with her current boyfriend – again. It actually seems to be a bad habit of hers. However, when Fred and she go on a "secret mission," hilarity and romance ensue.

**Chapter 4**: Status: Commencing

**Author's Note**: In this chapter, the outline for the "plan" of this step of Hermione's and Fred's is revealed. (You'll see...) After this, though, I'm struggling for ideas. Obviously, I should have planned the story better. However, this is what my reviewers will be (I have faith...) AWESOME for. I have a few, scattered ideas for more hair-brained scheming on Fred and Hermione's part, but any of your ideas are SO appreciated. (**Edit:** Sorry it took so long to update. I've been having huge computer problems, and on top of that I've been sick really sick; however, everything should be back to normal now.)

**_June 7th – Ginny's and my room – 10:30 PM_**

Fred and I have just finished working out the last phase of the plan. It took a lot of training on my part, but I think I've got it.

I should probably go to sleep now; I've got to wake up early tomorrow morning.

I'm so excited, though! How will I be able to sleep! Adrenaline is already rushing through my veins. I can feel it.

Oh, but I will definitely write tomorrow, after we've executed our plan. I'll tell you all about it then.

_Hermione Granger_

P.S. Um, did I mention I am SO EXCITED! Nervous too. It's a mix of excitement and nervousness. Nervited? Yes, I like that. I am nervited.

**_June 8th – In the Den – 12:06 PM_**

What a disaster! Nothing – and I mean _nothing_ – went right in our plan. Unless, of course, Fred was expecting me to never be able to show my face in the Weasley household ever again...

Well, first of all, Fred wrote out the plan for me (I was a bit worried I wouldn't remember it), and I glued it in here:

_Operation Ron Is Dead_

_Status: Commencing_

_Step 1_

_1. You will wake up at 0500 hours. (In case you don't know, Hermione, that's military lingo for five in the morning)._

_2. You will proceed with your day as you normally do, except for one very important detail: you _will_ be downstairs when Ron awakes and comes down for his breakfast. He will shuffle into the kitchen in his footie pajamas, yawn, sit at the table, look around once, and then reach for whatever food is in front of him._

_3. However, before Ron comes downstairs, you will slip the contents of the vial attached to this note into his eggs (I asked around; we ARE having eggs tomorrow). It is a medium-strength potion George and I concocted a few months ago for a new invention of ours, Lie-Prone Sugar Lumps. Unfortunately, the sugar and the truth serum had a funny sort of reaction. George's freckles were missing for almost a week, but, anyways... off the topic..._

_4. You will ENSURE the eggs do not touch his pancakes and syrup. This is mandatory. (They have sugar in them... if Ron's hair were to, er... well... let's just say that if mum were to find out... I wouldn't fancy looking for our heads)._

_5. Also! This isn't a real step, but I don't know where else to put it... The reason YOU have to slip him the truth serum is because if Ron sees me within a fifty foot radius of his food he won't eat it. (All because of a nasty Growing Gum experience last year)._

_6. By the time Ron is done eating everything on his plate, the truth serum should kick in. You will know it has when his eyelids droop a bit, and he'll look a little like he just got hit with a stunning spell. But only for a second. You'll have to watch carefully to pick it up._

_7. Invite Ron to play a game of chess with you. You know he can't resist chess. I will, by this time, have emptied the living room (where the chessboard is) of other family members, besides myself of course._

_8. I will pretend to be incredibly interested in you two's game. The whole while, we will be quizzing him indirectly about the BWWNE. This will start with me asking you guys if after the game of chess you guys want to play quidditch. You will say yes, and hopefully he will too. Then we'll ask about him bringing Ellen. Don't worry, we'll wing it from there._

_Warning:_

_DO NOT MENTION THE BWWNE AT ANYTIME. You may mention Ellen, though. We want him to sweat into admitting his wrongdoing (if he has done anything at all) by himself. Plus, if he has done something wrong, I will get the utmost satisfaction out of seeing him squirm._

_DO NOT glance at me knowingly when he answers a question, incriminating me. Remember, we did not see him with the BWWNE in Diagon Alley. Of course, he will realize quickly that he is under some kind of truth potion when he is answering everything we ask truthfully, but he won't say anything about it. He'll just think he's "slipping."_

_Er... and if it's necessary, and the truth serum fails... show a little leg._

_-Bogey_

Bogey is Fred's codename. Mine is Spiff. And yes, Fred did make them up.

Sounds like a fairly good plan, right? Um, SO WRONG.

Who ever knew I could make things so messed up in a matter of an hour!

Well... I sorta did. I insisted to Fred that I couldn't pull this off. I told him. I almost got on my knees and begged for him to be the one to carry out the poisoning of Ron's food. But no... Fred remained firm ("Hermione, honestly, are we in this together or not?")

So, I followed through with the plan to the best of my abilities. I even woke up a half an hour early just to make sure everything went smoothly. I got dressed, brushed my hair, brushed my teeth, listened carefully for Ron's footsteps, upon hearing none I smoothed my robes, nervously brushed my hair again, double-checked that I had the vial of truth serum in my pocket, stared at myself in the mirror ("Oh no, dear, those circles under your eyes will never do. Go back to bed,") and FINALLY I heard the telltale clumsy footsteps of Ron.

I took the vial of truth serum out of my pocket and placed it up my sleeve as I exited the room which Ginny and I shared.

I walked quickly downstairs and seated myself at the table, crossing my legs and looking around uncertainly. Mrs. Weasley was bustling around the kitchen, putting down plates, and the aroma of fresh-cooked eggs reached my nostrils. Mr. Weasley was sitting at the head of the table, reading _The Daily Prophet_. Because Percy has not yet made amends with the family, he was nowhere to be seen. I knew that Fred (and possibly George) had come down, even, before I had woken up and were currently in the living room.

"This all smells delicious," I told Mrs. Weasley before looking around furtively. I knew Ron would sit across from me. All the Weasleys sit in the same spots everyday. "Er, I heard Ron up when I came down here."

"Oh, wonderful, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. She set down a plate where Ron would be sitting and piled it with eggs, bacon, and pancakes.

Ok, I had to tell myself, it's now or never. The unfortunate part was... I kept thinking that never sounds good to me. However, I ignored that thought, and when Mrs. Weasley turned her back to tend to the bacon sizzling loudly in a pan, I reached forward and furtively poured the contents of the vial onto Ron's eggs.

Fred had spent the better part of an hour teaching me how to do that. How to balance the vial in your sleeve and then nimbly slip it out and open it (with one hand, mind you!) and dump the contents then recap it. It is like... difficult to the max. But I did it (and quite well if I do say so myself). Fred isn't too bad of a teacher. He never once got frustrated, which is surprising in itself because I smashed about six vials by dropping them. "Nothing a repairing charm won't fix up," he'd say and whip out his wand again to make the shards fly back together.

_I'm not cut out for this_, I remember this was my first thought when Ron came downstairs and sat across from me. I could feel that I was blushing furiously, and I tried to hide it with my hair. For once, thank God for it being bushy.

I chanced a glance up and saw Ron staring at his plate with his head cocked to the side. He had a horrified look on his face. I panicked, and I remembered Fred had told me, "If somehow you get caught (although I don't see how, you're under my great tutelage) blame it _all_ on me. No, don't shake your head; my mom thinks the best of you, and I don't want to change that. I can't get in that much trouble. It won't be the worst thing I've done by far. Seriously, do _not _ take the blame."

However, Ron quickly diminished my worries when he said, "Mum, you know I don't like my bacon all soggy like this." He picked up his bacon, and it fell limply in his hand.

"Well, dear, that's the last of the bacon, so take it or leave it," Mrs. Weasley said, snapping a bit.

I glanced down at my plate and saw that my bacon was, in fact, quite crispy. "I'll trade you, Ron," I said, thanking my blessed stars that I had not poured the truth serum on Ron's bacon.

A smile of gratitude spread across his freckled face. He looked so cute when he smiled big like that. It convinced me even mor: There was no way he was cheating on Ellen.

But I had to do what I had to do. I watched him carefully as he ate. I would occasionally take a small bite out of my breakfast, but not often. I was far too worried about missing the reaction Fred had described would occur in Ron.

I was _very_ displeased to see that Ron started on his pancakes first, and then he slowly moved on to his bacon. How long does it take him to eat, anyways?

As I waited for Ron to take a bite of his eggs, Mrs. Weasley came and sat down next to me, helping herself to breakfast.

"So, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said, looking fondly at me, "how did you sleep last night?"

I smiled at her. "Not well at all." What! Where had _that_ come from? I had meant to say, "Quite well, thanks."

Mrs. Weasley looked taken aback for a moment, but she quickly overlooked it and said, "Oh, well why not? Was that ghost in the attic up to it again?"

"Actually, no. I didn't sleep well because I was worried about a scheme Fred and I are pulling today," I said. Immediately I clapped my hand over my mouth. Why had I said that? What was I doing?

That's when I realized it. I must've gotten some of the serum on the bacon. My stomach felt like I had swallowed a bowling ball. Oh no. I forced myself to look up and see Mrs. Weasley's reaction to the last thing I had said. I expected a mix of rage and confusion to be on her face.

Too my surprise she was smiling at me. "Haha, very funny, Hermione," she said, patting me on my shoulder.

I snuck a glance at Ron and saw him shoveling eggs in his mouth. Without bothering to finish chewing, he said, "Yeah, 'Mione, 'ou really 'ad muh goin'." He sprayed food across the table as he talked, and Mrs. Weasley gave him a reprimanding look.

I had to get out of the room. If we continued in this vain I would end up spilling my guts. And now that I look back on it, there's a lot worse stuff that could've come out of my mouth at the gentle but nosy prodding of Mrs. Weasley. Like my crush on Ron in 4th year. Or my current feelings on Fred (_I'm_ not even sure what those would be). Or perhaps the one time I dropped Mrs. Weasley's vase, and she thought that one of her own children had done it.

That's when I saw it. His eyes drooped for a second, and his mouth went slack-jawed.

My heart leapt. Finally, we could get out of here!

I practically dragged Ron into the den, out of Mrs. Weasley's watchful gaze with a few well-chosen words. (Chess, play for a galleon, let's GO).

Of course, at one point, Ron asked me about why I was so anxious to play chess.

I tried to move my mouth into the words, "No particular reason." But instead, out came, "Because Fred asked me to."

This made Ron sort of look at me funny, but eventually I got him into the den, where Fred was laying back on the couch reading a book about famous beaters through the ages; however, I knew that he had not been reading. He had actually been waiting patiently for Ron and me to arrive.

I sat across from Ron, facing Fred. Ron's back was to Fred, making for easy communication between me and Fred... sorta.

As Ron and I set up the chess pieces, Fred mouthed behind Ron's back, "Is it on?"

I nodded my head yes. For once a question that the truth wouldn't get me in trouble.

Fred gave a quick nod to show he'd understood and then pulled his chair up to the chess table. "Guys playin' a chess game?" he asked casually.

"Yes," Ron said, nodding his head.

Fred tapped my foot with his own, indicating, I guess, that it was time to begin the grilling of Ron. I just had to cross my fingers and hope that Fred would not ask _me_ any questions that he expected me to lie about. I mean, I could've told him that I'd accidentally been truth-serum-ized, but I didn't want him to know how incredibly stupid I was. I'd rather keep it to myself.

As Ron began ordering his pawn around, Fred leaned back in his chair and balanced it on two legs.

"So," he said. "After this I was thinking we could all go practice some quidditch. Fly around for a while, you know. You guys wanna come?"

We had planned this all out. Ron and I were to agree, and this was how Ellen was going to come into the conversation; however, I hate flying. Yes, of course I learned how to first year at Hogwarts, but I really don't like it. I'm afraid of heights.

"I would rather go swimming with the giant squid," I said, truthfully. Where in the world had that come from! What was wrong with a simple no? I cursed Fred for making the truth serum so brutally honest. I could feel my face burning, and I knew Fred must have been looking at me open-mouthed.

I chanced a glance up, and Fred was, indeed, looking at me with shock written all over his face. Ron did not, however, find anything weird about me saying this because _he_ did not know we had this planned out.

"Well, I would like to," Ron said, as he moved another pawn forward, taking one of mine.

"You're not doing anything with Ellen?" Fred asked, with carefully crafted surprise. I could see him just barely sneak a look at me out of the corner of his eyes. I knew that look. It was a we-WILL-be-talking-later look.

"Nope," Ron said as he rolled his eyes. I had just moved my knight right where his pawn could take it. I suck at chess.

"Well, why don't you invite her?" Fred asked. "I mean, you haven't seen her yet this summer. Well, except yesterday when you guys hung out in Diagon Alley."

I definitely saw the tips of Ron's ears turn pink, but that's the only thing he gave away there. I distractedly moved my other knight, and he once again was able to capture one of my pieces... this time a bishop.

"Because she's been really pissy lately," Ron said. Then he clapped a hand over his mouth. He looked horrified. He had obviously meant to say something along the lines of "I dunno."

I resisted the temptation to glance at Fred knowingly.

Ron smiled sheepishly. "Sorry," he said. What a dopey thing to say. It must've been the only thing he could think of.

"It's ok," Fred said, letting his chair fall to the floor with a _thump_. He leaned forward toward Ron, his elbows on his knees. "I know what you mean. Girls, they always get in those moods."

I began to open my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. The truth serum was preventing me from denying that girls got moody.

"Are you gonna invite her anyways?" Fred said.

"Nah," Ron said. The inflection in his voice made Fred drop it. I glanced up at Ron and saw that he looked miserable.

Fred tapped my foot with his and glanced at me.

"So, uh, how's Chris Hayes?" Ron asked.

I looked up sharply, and I saw Fred do the same. I realized – Ron doesn't know. He doesn't know that we broke up. How had I not told him?

I could see Fred desperately trying to get Ron to shut up by kicking him under the table. "Ow, what're you doin'? Pawn to E4," Ron said, grabbing his knee.

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him in a while," I said.

Ron looked at me, obviously expecting me to continue. Fred was shooting a death glare at Ron. That's when I realized that Fred doesn't know that I don't care that much anymore. What with everything that's been happening lately, I haven't even had a chance to think about Chris anymore.

"We broke up," I elaborated to Ron.

Ron immediately looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Hermione! I didn't know!"

Fred rubbed his face with his hand. "What'd you think I was doin', kicking you for fun?" Fred asked sarcastically.

"No," Ron said defensively.

"No, it's ok, you guys. I'm over him," I said, trying to cut one of their famous fights short.

Ron looked at me and nodded. "That's good," he said. "But what made you get over him so quickly? Check," the last part he added as he moved his queen.

I shrugged. "It's just been pushed out of my mind by a lot of stuff lately," I said. Thank God the truth serum hadn't forced me to say _what_ things. But then I found the perfect opening to another question about Ellen. "What about you and your girlfriend? How're things going besides that she's kind of 'pissy'?" I asked, moving my king out of reach.

"Not too shabby. Check," Ron said, moving his queen again. "What's with all these questions anyways?"

And... well, it took me by surprise... but... the words that came out of my mouth... oh, I hate to even write them: "Well, Fred and I have been thinking that you're cheating on Ellen."

Silence.

Complete and total silence filled the room as both Ron and Fred stared at me in open-mouthed horror. Seriously, I could've heard the miniscule flapping of butterfly wings in the other room. I could feel my face burning a bright red, and I felt like crying. How could I have messed up the plan so much in the short span of half an hour!

Suddenly, Fred started laughing. "Haha, Hermione!" he said. "Very funny joke!" His laugh sounded almost completely real too. If I hadn't known he was faking it, I would've believed it. And once he started laughing, Ron joined in.

"You got me, Hermione," Ron said, shaking his head, still laughing a little.

I grinned weakly, but could not say anything. It would be a lie. I glanced at Fred, but he was not looking at me. I think purposely so. His jaw was set, and a muscle I had never noticed before was working. I'm pretty sure that meant he was upset. And damn it, Ron had beaten us again. Last time he escaped without us seeing who the girl was, and now I had swallowed Fred's truth serum. Damn it, damn it, damn it. And on top of that, Fred is probably mad at me.

Ron moved forward a bishop. "Checkmate," he said, smiling triumphantly.

I didn't want this plan in the first place. I told Fred it would never work. I told him! Ugh, and now I feel so guilty for ruining it. I hate this. I hate it. I hate being sneaky, and I _especially_ hate failing.

I used my thumb and forefinger to flick my king over. "Good game," I said, before rushing off to my room. I wanted to GET OUT OF THERE. I feel so stupid right now.

And the boys have just now left to go practice their quidditch. Ron came in here and tried to get me to come, but I refused. He probably thought it was weird, but I don't care. I can't face Fred right now. He must hate me. He probably hates me as much as I hated that stupid plan.

Hermione Granger


	4. Look What You Did

**Commitaphobia**

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter, and I own nothing.

**Summary**: Hermione breaks up with her current boyfriend – again. It actually seems to be a bad habit of hers. However, when Fred and she go on a "secret mission," hilarity and romance ensue.

**Chapter 4**: Look What You Did!

**Author's Note**: Sorry it took so long. Been busy. I'm happy with how it turned out though. I already have about half of the next chapter typed up, so review and it'll be up sooner!

**_June 10th – Outside – 1:00 P.M._**

No, I haven't talked to Fred yet. I've been avoiding him, and he hasn't exactly gone out of his way to talk to me or anything, if you know what I mean. Sure, we sat across the table from each other at lunch today, but with a family as large as the Weasley's, it's easy to avoid talking to people. I had Ron on my left and Harry on my right.

OH! That's another thing! Harry's finally arrived! He's been doing some kind of auror clinic with the ministry. It's finally over! I've felt so awkward around Ron since mine and Fred's discovery of the BWWNE. I try to keep things normal, and we still talk and hang out... I guess. But now that Harry's here, I think it's easing the tension. He subconsciously manages to bring up neutral topics that have nothing to do with Ellen, making it easy for me to converse.

I was so excited to see Harry, though!

I walked into the kitchen this morning. I was still in a sleep-induced stupor, having just woken up, and suddenly I was ambushed with two wildly screaming boys. Through bleary eyes I could make out Ron's fiery hair jumping up and down screaming. The other person, I realized with a start, was Harry.

"Hermione!" he said happily.

"Harry!" I squealed. I gave him a tight, long hug. I hadn't seen him in such a long time! It felt like ages. It had only been a week and a half though. Weird stuff. When I released him, he was looking silly with embarrassment. You would think by now he would be used to it, but whatever.

Well, I'm off to go on a picnic with Harry and Ron. I'm excited! I'll write tomorrow about how it went!

Hermione Granger

**_June 11th – Bathroom – 8:00 AM_**

I'm sitting in here in the bathroom on the toilet (with the lid down) to get away from all of the noise this household seems to always accumulate. Sometimes I just need a moment to myself, you know?

And, ok, I was writing because yesterday the picnic was – _Oh, God!_ Someone's banging on the bathroom door. And I know that voice. It's Fred! What should I do? I told him to hold on one second. He knows it's me! There's no way to get out of this. If I open the door, he'll see me and demand we talk.

Maybe if I jumped out the window...?

Oh no, he's banging on the door louder. He says I'm being a bathroom hog worse than Ginny. He says that I'm not the only one in the house who needs to brush their teeth. I _have_ to go out there. Ohhhh no...

Here goes nothing...

**_June 11th – Bathroom once again – Noon_**

Wow. Woooow. That's all I have to say. Wow. That was so crazy, what just happened.

Ok, so I last ended with my being yelled out of the bathroom by Fred. As I left the bathroom I looked at the floor and tried to avoid eye contact, but Fred caught me by surprise. He firmly grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back into the bathroom.

"Hey! What're you doin'?" I asked, completely surprised.

"Talking to you," he replied grimly.

"But," I tried to make sense of this, "you said – "

"I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you! You've been running in the opposite direction ever since you messed up our Operation! Locking you up in this bathroom was the only way I could think of to get you to _talk_ to me," Fred said, running his hands through his hair.

"Hey!" I suddenly came to my senses and began to walk toward the bathroom door. I had to get out of there.

"Hermione Janine Granger! Sit your skinny ass down!" Fred snappe.

I bristled slightly at his words, and then I realized, "Hey, my middle name's not Janine!"

Fred shrugged. "It's the first name I could think of," Fred grinned. "It sort of has a ring to it, huh?"

Despite myself I smiled a little bit. I tried my very hardest not to, and the fact that I was smiling made me even madder. Why I was mad at Fred is beyond me. I was the one who'd screwed up. I was the one who had single-handedly driven our plans into the ground, almost ruining the Operation.

Then, Fred got serious again. "Listen, we need to talk – "

I interrupted him, "Are you mad at me?"

"Mad at you," Fred asked, "why would I be mad at you?"

I looked at him with my eyebrows raised.

"Ok," Fred gave in, "I was mad at you in the beginning. But I'm over that now. Yeah, at first, I was really pissed off. I've had time to cool down considering it's been, oh, two days since the whole ordeal."

I could feel myself blushing. "I – I didn't want you to be mad at me."

"So, what were you going to do? Avoid me forever?"

Yes. "Well, no, I wasn't going to. But – but, what with everything going on, I've been busy."

"Everything going on? What's been going on?" Fred asked, sitting down on the sink. It creaked ominously, but he ignored it.

"Well, you know, Harry's got here. I've been trying to spend time with him."

Suddenly Fred's eyes hardened. "Yes, of course, I forgot about Harry."

I was confused. Why was he mad again? "What?"

"What, what?" Fred snapped. "I had simply forgotten about your precious Harry arriving. Of course he would drive the imperative mission lying before us out of your mind."

"He didn't drive it out of my mind!" I snapped back. "I've just been _busy_. He's my best friend, Fred! What was I supposed to do? Ignore him? Tell him, 'Sorry, Harry, I'm busy with Fred trying to bust your best friend with some trashy whore!'"

"Why not!" Fred shouted. "You told Ron about it already!"

_That_ stung. I hadn't meant to tell Ron. The truth serum made me. I opened my mouth to retort... something about exactly _where_ Fred could go... when the sink gave another loud groan.

And then it exploded.

The top snapped from the pipe and freezing water began spraying left and right.

"Argh!" Fred shouted as he tried to get out of the stream of shooting water. I shrieked as I got a mouthful of it.

The whole bathroom had turned into an icy waterfall. I fumbled in my pocket for my wand, but the mass of wet clothing was just tangling in my hands. I could barely see Fred through the water stinging my eyes.

He was jumping around yelling, "Do something! Do something!"

"I can't get my wand! You do something!" I tried to block the water which was still viciously spraying everywhere with my arm while I still groped around for my wand. I had dropped it when a fresh wave of water hit me.

"My wand's in my bedroom," Fred said caustically, dropping to his knees and helping me find my wand. It was lying behind the toilet just out of reach. "Accio wand," Fred tried, but it was futile without his own.

"Look what you did," I shrieked over the hissing of the water.

"I'll fix it," Fred shouted at me. He crawled over to the broken pipe and took both of his hands and placed them over the gash, trying to cut off the water. Not a good idea. Instead of stopping it from coming out, the water sprayed in every different direction.

"STOP IT!"

"Do you have a better idea?" Fred asked, trying to stand but slipping on a growing puddle.

I screamed in frustration. "NO!" Wait, yes I did. "YES! Get out of the bathroom! Get out!"

Fred's face fell. "I locked it. So that you couldn't escape."

We had both retreated to a small corner in the bathroom where the water wouldn't hit us. "Look, if we could just get my wand dislodged from behind the toilet, then we could get out. Throw something at it! Do SOMETHING!" I shivered. "Quickly!"

Fred grabbed a shampoo bottle and aimed carefully. He threw it so that it knocked my wand a little closer. I could _almost_ reach it. It rolled a closer as red sparks emitted from it. Almost there... Got it! I had my wand, and I immediately cast a spell to stop the water shooting from the pipe. Then I repaired the sink. Then I surveyed the damage.

I was dripping head-to-toe in water. My hair was probably plastered all around my face and I'm sure what little make-up I wore was running. And, here's the worst part: I was wearing a white shirt. I immediately crossed my arms.

The sudden movement, of course, drew Fred's eyes. Once he realized what I was doing, he dropped his eyes, and a blush slowly crept to his cheeks. I turned my back to him and cast a drying charm on myself. Ok, so you could still see the outline of my breasts, but it wasn't as bad. Then, I turned and cast the same charm on him.

He shivered lightly as the warm air washed over him. "Thanks," he muttered.

I looked around the bathroom. It looked like a tiny hurricane had just come through our toilet. The shower curtain had been knocked down, and it had managed to bring Ginny's many hair care products down with it. The medicine cabinet lay open and bottles were scattered over the floor. The towels were limp and dripping water slowly onto the shiny floor. The rugs were all water logged, and the mirror had fallen to the floor, where it laid, cracked.

"Look. What. You. Did." It was the only thing I could think to say. "Oh my God, look what you _did_!" I was bridging on hysteria. "Look what you did! Your mum's going to kill us! We're dead. Forever. Permanently. I'll never be able to come back here! Oh, God, how will we fix this without her finding out? She probably already heard! She's probably on her way up here! On her way up here with a knife more likely! Oh, God, what will we do!"

Fred came up behind me and placed one hand over my mouth. "Shhh," he said. "She hasn't heard yet, but your screaming will alert the whole house!"

I bit his hand and then buried my head in my own hands. "We're dead."

"No, we're not," Fred said firmly. "Hermione Granger, look at me! Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to go get my wand, and then I'll come back here and we'll start fixing things up. It'll be great. How hard can it – _would you look at me!_"

I looked up.

"Thank you, now wait right here."

Fred dissapparated with a loud pop. "Great!" I yelled to the air. "Just great!"

Fred reappeared. "Well," he said, pulling out his wand. "Let's get to it then. He walked over to the mirror and tapped it. It pieced itself back together and flew onto the wall.

After I recovered from my shock, I began to help. It took about an hour, but soon enough the bathroom was back to normal sans a few of Ginny's hair products which had burst open.

Once we were done, I sat on the floor. Fred plopped down next to me. We had both worked so hard that little beads of sweat were dotting Fred's neck.

"Wow," I said, "we're done."

"We're done," Fred repeated. He held out his hand for a high-five, and I slapped it.

"We did good, "I said, looking around at the gleaming tile.

"We did well," Fred corrected, grinning.

"Shut up."

Fred looked over at me one more time. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he said glancing at his watch, "I've got a hot date to meet."

"The bimbo from the book shop?" I asked, standing at approaching the door.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Fred said, slamming the door shut.

Sometimes I hate him so much.

Hermione Granger

**_June 11th – The Den – 12:31 AM_**

I just got this note from Fred:

_Spiff: Meet me in the living room tomorrow at 0200 hours. Make sure no one else is with you. Immediately incinerate this after you receive it. That is all. – Bogey_

Pssht, yeah right. Like I'm going to immediately incinerate it.

Anyways, that's in an hour and a half. I feel like I'm about to fall asleep, but I can't.

Ugh, this secret mission thing sucks. I'm guessing he's going to be giving me the next step of our plan. I can't wait (sarcasm right there...)

Hermione Granger

P.S. It turns out his date was Parvati Patil. What's up with that? She's the biggest ditz in our year. Plus she's younger than him! What was he thinking!

Why do I care?

**_June 11th – My Room – 2:15_**

This was left on the table. Fred is SUCh a loser:

_Meet me tomorrow in the garden after you've eaten lunch. Eat as quickly as possible so that everyone else is still eating. –Bogey_

Ugh, I waited up for nothing.

Hermione Granger

P.S. I wonder if he was too tired to meet me because he was out with Parvati...?


	5. Go Time

**Commitaphobia**

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter, and I own nothing.

**Summary**: Hermione breaks up with her current boyfriend – again. It actually seems to be a bad habit of hers. However, when Fred and she go on a "secret mission," hilarity and romance ensue.

**Chapter 5**: Go Time

**Author's Note**: I know. It's been almost an entire year since I last updated this story. Serious writer's block or just laziness. Call it what you will. I'm back, kiddos. No telling when the next chapter will be up, but enjoy this one!

**_June 12th – In The Garden – 12:30 PM_**

I'm sitting here, waiting for Fred. And he told _me_ to eat fast. Then again, it's Fred. I should expect him to be late. Though I must admit that lately, I've been seeing a different, more organized side of Fred. True, his organizational skills are only due to the fact that he's trying to bust his brother, but whatever, right?

I haven't even talked to him since yesterday in the bathroom. Unless you count the note he left me. Then I haven't talked to him since 2:15 am this morning.

But oooh my goodness. I did talk to Harry this morning! And I almost spilled about me and Fred's plans. It was so close it scared me.

We were just sitting there talking about his auror training and my plans with the Ministry after this summer and how I don't like peas and he doesn't like Voldemort or whatever, and all of the sudden, I was all, "Do you think Ron really likes Ellen?"

And Harry looked at me kinda surprised and said, "Why, do you think he doesn't?"

And because I'm a horrible liar, my voice got all squeaky when I said, "NO! I mean, no, why would I? They're perfect for each other! Absolutely perfect! So perfect that they're more than perfect. They're, like, perfect to the max."

Yes, that actually came out of my mouth. I just can't lie to Harry.

"Um..." was all that Harry said.

I nodded encouragingly.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry elaborated. "They seem to like each other well enough."

And that's when I almost said it. It was pushing at the back of my mouth. "Well, you know, Ron is – " I stopped myself from saying cheating just in time " – seems really happy."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Herrmione, are you feeling ok?"

I tried to smile at Harry, but it came out as a grimace, "Just peachy."

"Um... let's go get some food." Harry bounced to his feet and extended his hand, pulling me up from the grass.

And now, here I am again. Sitting in the grass, waiting for Fred. Bogey. Whatever.

It's 12:38 now. He's eight minutes later than he was last time I said he was late. Ugh, I'm so bored. And mad. I shouldn't have to wait for him.

12:39...

What in the world is he doing? I wonder if he's owling Parvati?

12:40...

So what if he _is_ owling Parvati? What do I care whether or not he's with her? Come to think of it, they probably go perfectly together. I mean, she's so flighty, and he's so forgetful. But he doesn't _really_ need somebody flighty. He needs somebody who will understand him. Who will nurture his mischievous needs. Who will see to it that he is challenged as well as kept in line. Who will fully appreciate all the work he has to go through at the store. Who isn't afraid to stand up to him. Who...

**_June 12th – Still in the Garden – 1:30 PM_**

Sorry about that. Fred arrived, and I had to stop writing. Especially on account of I was writing about him.

He told me the next step of the plan. He gave me a copy again like last time:

_Operation: Ron Is Dead_

_Status: In Progress_

_Step 1 – Revisited_

_Ok, ready? We're going to try this again, Spiff. The procedure will be as follows:_

_1. You will wake and proceed with your day as usual until 1500 hours._

_2. At this time, you will go up to your room and dress in ALL BLACK. This is mandatory. If anyone asks why you are retiring to your room, tell them that you are busy with important Ministry work and are not to be bothered. Hopefully, that will guarantee you about ten minutes of peace._

_3. After you are dressed in all black, meet me in my room. Apparate there so you don't meet anyone on your way._

_4. Once you are in my room, I will go down to the family and say that you asked me to tell them that you're going out for a job interview, and I'm going to get some supplies for the store (which I really need to do, so we'll be making a pit stop on the way back). I will then return to my room and change into all black clothing as well._

_5. Then we wait._

_6. I have come across very privileged information that tomorrow, Ron and friends are going out. Not just anywhere, either. They are going to watch a quidditch game at _Festering Fern's Quidditch Pitch_. I don't know if you're familiar with the place, but it's just outside Diagon Alley. They are going at 1800 hours until who knows how long. It's just a minor league game. Nothing too big._

_7. Therefore, we wait until 1700 hours, when we can safely proceed to the pitch._

_8. Once we reach _Festering Fern's_, we hide near the entrance until we see Ron go in. We will carefully note where he is sitting, and then we break out the omnioculars._

_9. We watch him. We see who he is meeting, who he's sitting with, etc. He told mum that he was going with "friends," but I have a feeling he's meeting someone else there._

_WARNINGS:_

_If Ron sees you or me, abort mission and report back to base. Apparate as quickly as possible back to my room._

_If Ron is with the BWWNE, do not make a scene. We will get pictures and use them to our own advantage later. Not at _Festering Fern's

_I'm expecting you to be extremely subtle when you tell people you're working on Ministry business. If you hint that anything is out of the ordinary then Ron might not show up with the BWWNE._

_We won't be going into the actual stadium. We'll just outside of it, watching the crowd from behind a bush with a pair of omnioculars. So dress comfortably. And the weatherman says it might rain._

_Over and out,_

_Bogey_

I guess it's a good idea except that there's a chance that Ron won't even be with the BWWNE. But when I mentioned that to Fred he shrugged and said, "That would suck."

He also told me that we had to work on my lying skills because Ron was sure to know that something was up if I kept turning red and mumbling when I say I have to go up to my room and work for the Ministry.

So he helped me practice. And practice. And practice. He was really nice about it too. I mean, he doesn't have to spend his afternoons teaching me how to lie.

It took almost two hours for him to teach me just how to act. He's such a sweetheart sometimes.

Two hours! And it wasn't even awkward. Not that I expected it to be. Well, actually, there was this one part that was kinda weird, but I had forgotten about it.

Fred was showing me how if I could act then I would be able to lie, so he made me say all of these lines over and over again until I was able to say them with emotion. And I felt really stupid doing it, let me tell you.

But after awhile I kinda got into it. I mean, every time that I did a line well, Fred would start applauding and it was... I don't know... _invigorating_.

And toward the end, Fred finally stood up and said, "I think you've got it."

But I hadn't been expecting him to stand up and say, "I think you've got it." So I was still going on with the lines that he wanted me to read. So when I turned around to deliver the punch line of my story, I went flying full-swing into Fred, toppling him over. We both landed sprawled haphazardly on the ground.

"Umph," I believe was the distinct sound Fred made as I tried to get up, but sunk my hand deep into his gut.

"Sorry!" I said, quickly removing my hand and landing back on his chest. "Ooph."

I tried once again to get up from his chest... and once again I landed flat on my face.

"Hermione," Fred said grinning cheekily, "it is quite a pleasure to have your exquisite mass on top of me. But as lovely as your bulk is, it is crushing my internal organs as we speak."

Then he carefully stood and helped me up. I could feel my face burning too. I can make such a fool of myself sometimes! But at least he was nice about it. Sort of.

Oh! And I managed to ask about his date with Parvati! I mean, not that I really_ care_ or anything. Because I totally don't. I was just wondering.

"So, Fred, how'd your date with Parvati go last night?"

Fred looked at me kinda funny and then said, "Swell. If you count how she kept talking about her exes. There's nothing I hate more than talking about exes. So I don't think we'll be seeing each other again."

And when he said that I got this little flutter in my stomach that I decided to ignore. It's not like I _like_ Fred or anything. But still, when I said, "Oh, that's too bad," it was hard to look like I meant it.

So now, here I am, totally prepared to lie my little heart out tomorrow. I'm kind of looking forward to this stake out. It should be fun.

Hermione Granger

**_June 13th – In My Room – Noon_**

I'm starting to get a little nervous. What if I screw something up again? I can just see it now.

**_June 13th – In My Room – 1:00 PM_**

Two more hours til complete failure.

**_June 13th – In My Room – 2:39 PM_**

It's go time. Wish me luck.

**_June 13th – Outside of Festering Fern's – Who cares?_**

I'm cold. My hands are numb. My feet are asleep. My ears are burning. I'm WET. And the omnioculars are getting treated better than me.

Seriously. Fred cast a repellant charm over the omnioculars so that the rain wouldn't impair our ability to see. Unfortunately, he can't cast a bubble or repellant charm around us because it might "interfere with our hiding spot and reveal our location to higher authorities and/or Ron."

That's another thing. Ron hasn't even showed up yet, and we've been sitting in this damn bush for nearly an hour.

An entirely wretched hour too. From the moment we got here, it started pouring down rain. Big, cold, buckets of rain. Who ever said summer rain was nice? This is positively miserable! And it's freezing! Not to mention boring. Fred is concentrating so hard on the people coming in that he's not really talking to me either.

So I broke out this book and cast a water-proof charm on it.

Fred is yelling at me, and he says to stop writing in this book. He says that I should care more about the mission. He's trying to look over my shoulder. I just elbowed him in the gut. Ok, I have to say sorry for that. He says I am not sorry. It made him leave me alone, though.

So anyways, before that rude interruption...

I lied pretty damn good today. Really.

I went downstairs and was all, "I'm going to go to an internship interview at the Ministry."

And nobody even questioned it. Not even Ron.

Then I met Fred and without even saying a word to me, Fred led me here.

AHHHH! THERE'S RON!

**_June 14th – Downstairs in the Den – 12:05 AM_**

Well. That was a bust.

Not because Ron wasn't with the BWWNE. He was. But, guess what. She had her hood on. The _entire _time. I mean, not that I blame her. It is raining. But what the heck! That means we have no pictures of her. Sure, we've got pictures of Ron with his arm around a girl, but as far as we know, that girl could be Ellen. Yeah, so.

Mission failed.

Fred seems pretty chipper, though. I don't get why. He said to leave it up to him and that he'd tell me later. Whatever. I could care less. I'm just starting to dry off. We got home like half an hour ago because, of course, we waited the entire match for the BWWNE to take off her hood at least _once_. Then we had to wait for them to leave before we could leave so they wouldn't see us. It's ridiculous.

When we finally got here, everyone else was already in bed with the exception of George. He returned to his bed though when Fred and I came into the den together. That was no, however, before George gave me a wink and a thumbs up. Whatever that was about.

So right now Fred's in the kitchen making hot chocolate and heating up some pot roast, which is what we missed for dinner. That's right. This failed mission made me give up Mrs. Weasley's pot roast. He said he's bring it in here when he's done.

Oh, there he is. He says I have to stop writing in this book now.

**_June 15th – In the Bathroom – 6:00 PM_**

Why is everyone in this family completely mental? In the past five minutes I think I've been verbally and physically abused three times. First by George, then Ron, then Fred.

Let's start with George, shall we?

As I was sitting on a couch in the downstairs room, George popped into my line of site. "Oi, Hermione!" he exclaimed, almost nervously. "Why're you sitting there?"

"I don't know... It was the first seat that I picked. Why? Do you want me to move?"

"Um... no reason. It's just that normally Ginny sits there. If you feel like moving, go ahead."

Ok, whatever. George is always a little weird. So I go to stand up, and what happens? Something CLAMPS AROUNG MY BOTTOM. That's right. Some sort of THING with an abnormally large mouth managed to fit it's little jaws around my rump.

Of course, a loud howl escaped my mouth. Before I could do anything about it, the thing bit down harder. "I'm going to KILL you, George!" were the only words that could escape my mouth between the screams and my fruitless attempts to dislodge the thing.

All the sudden George cast a spell that removed the bottom-sucking leech, and I turned to him, wand raised, but with a pop, George was gone, and so was the thing that had become fairly intimate with me in a matter of seconds.

Abuse No. 2? After using a spell to repair the hole in my robes and using a few choice expletives, I was walking up to my room, minding my own business, when Ron attacked me in the hallway. Yeah. Attacked. I was happily thinking only of another paper that I have to write for the Ministry when Ron dive tackled me. Ok, no he didn't. But he DID jump out in front of me wielding a bright yellow envelope. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, shaking the envelope in my face. "Is this your idea of a joke, Hermione!"

Obviously, I had nothing to do with the envelope, so I responded with a simple, "Um, excuse me?"

Ron didn't like that answer. He placed his hand on his hip and stamped his foot. He looked oddly like a girl standing in that position, but whatever, right? "You damn well know what I'm talking about."

"Erm. No... I really don't. Unless you tell me what's in that envelope, that is."

Suddenly it looked like someone had unplugged the air from Ron. He seemed to sag over and hung his head. "You really have no idea what's in here?" he asked me, already defeated.

"No?"

He sighed and continued on his rampage down the hall. Not even a "sorry."

Last but not least, Abuse No. 3. From none other than the second twin himself. Fred. Less than a second after Ron left, Fred ran out of the bathroom, looking panicked.

"What did you tell him, Hermione?" he asked me, using his large, large hands to pin my shoulders against the wall so that I couldn't escape his grip. Fred's hair was disheveled, and it looked like he was going for an "electric shock" look.

"Um... who?"

"Ron!" Fred was clearly in a panic.

"About the plan? Nothing..."

"No, Hermione! About those pictures!"

"What pictures?" He's such a weirdo.

"Oh... did he not show them to you?"

"The pictures we took last night?" I asked, but Fred had already disappeared down the other end of the hallway.

Goodness.

Boys.

Hermione Granger


	6. Whoopsy Daisy

**Commitaphobia**

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter, and I own nothing.

**Summary**: Hermione breaks up with her current boyfriend – again. It actually seems to be a bad habit of hers. However, when Fred and she go on a "secret mission," hilarity and romance ensue.

**Chapter 6**: Whoopsy Daisy

**_June 16th – In my Room – 7:00 PM_**

I found out what's in that ridiculous yellow envelope that Ron so brutally accused me of engineering, and, of course, it was all Fred's fault. See, apparently, we were supposed to be in on the plan together.

The yellow envelope contained the pictures that Fred took at Festering Fern's. Fred put it in an enveloped and left it in one of my desk drawers for me to slip into Ron's room. It was sealed and labeled with Ron's name.

Then, Fred left instructions to me written in... get this... invisible ink. He put it on the top of my desk. That's right, the stupid git just assumed that I would know the piece of parchment laying on my desk had invisible ink instructions on it. NOT. So, of course, I Just stuck the parchment in one of my drawers and went on with my day.

Ron, the nosy wanker that he is, was going through my desk looking for red ink because apparently he was out, and he found the yellow envelope. It _did_ have his name on it, as I pointed out to Fred. But Fred didn't care. He flipped out and said that Ron had no right to open it up before I had given it to him.

Whatever. Fred screwed this one up this time, at least. Not me.

Ron, though, as stupid as he is, does not think it's me or Fred, according to Fred. He said that he lied so convincingly, that Ron thinks it's someone from outside the family. Ha! He sure is suspicious. And at least this confirms one thing. It definitely _was_ the BWWNE that was with Ron at Festering Fern's.

So. Unless he's with this chick, what's he got to hide?

**_June 17th – In my Room – 11:56 PM_**

I was so busy today, what with writing a final essay for the ministry internship. I made it down to the final three! That's right, I might actually become an intern. I haven't really wanted to write about it in here in case I didn't get it because then the memory would be painful. But now that I'm top three, I think it's safe to say that I could possibly make it into the internship.

Fred told me that I was anal retentive today. I don't think he meant it in a hurtful way. I mean, I did lock myself in my room to write this essay. I didn't even let Fred in to talk about the plan. I didn't even let Ginny in, and it's _her_ room. I probably deserved the anal retentive comment. But that doesn't mean he had to say it out loud. He's such a git.

A very endearing git, though. He looked absolutely dashing today in a pair of hunter green robes that made his hair stand out nicely. Not really the normal shocking red. It was cute.

Not that I just wrote that about Fred Weasley. Why are thoughts about him taking over my hand and transferring into this diary constantly. Half the time I don't even mean to write some of the stuff that I do.

He told me to meet him downstairs tonight at 12:30 AM (or 0030 hours, in his exact words) so that he can give me the third (and he says hopefully final) plan for our mission.

**_June 18th – In the bathroom – 2:00 AM_**

_Operation Ron Is Dead_

_Status: Finalization_

_Step 3_

_Meet me tomorrow, Thursday, June 18th, at approximately 1200 hours. I'll be in the broom cupboard. _

_I have come by some more privileged information. Ron called to get Seamus Finnegan to cover his afternoon shift at the shop. Ron, however, was working double shifts today, so he will be at the shop until about 1300 hours._

_You and I will proceed to the shop without letting anyone see us there. If someone does, we'll play it off that I was just checking up on everything._

_We will go behind the shop and mount brooms that I have already left there. I swiped Ron's broom, so you've got one too. Don't worry, it's a pretty good one. You'll be soaring next to me in no time._

_We will go up high enough tomorrow to have cloud cover, and we will follow Ron from above. Hopefully this time we'll get some pictures of the girl's face._

_Consider this you first airborne stake out, Spiff._

_-Bogey_

These were fairly short instructions considering all of the rules Fred gave me yesterday It took him like an hour to spell it out, and I don't even know what he talked about. You see, he has these really pretty green-grey-blue eyes, and I was trying to decide what color they were. I had settled on green for a while, but then I changed my mind. They're definitely blue.

I'm tired, though. And I'm flying tomorrow. I get a little queasy just thinking about it. Note to self: bring Pepto Bismol tomorrow!

Oh, please don't let me throw up in front of Fred. Pleeeease.

What could be less sexy than throw up?

The answer? Nothing.

**_June 20th – Downstairs – 1:00 AM_**

I hate myself.

**_June 20th – In the Garden – 4:00 PM_**

Well. Yesterday I found out what's less sexy than throw up.

What, you ask?

ME. I am. I suck. And if it weren't for my parents I would go and commit suicide by jumping out of a window. Not even kidding. Ok... maybe a little.

Is there a plan in this world I _can't_ mess up?

Everything went smoothly yesterday morning at least. I got up, showered, put on some jeans, changed into some different jeans, changed into shorts, changed into _another_ pair of shorts, wondered why I cared what I looked like, changed my outfit three more times, and finally settled on the second pair of jeans I tried on and a tank top. Why _did_ I care? Who knows.

I ate breakfast (delicious, as usual), read The History of the Troll Wars, paced around my room in a worried tizzy, tried to re-read Hogwarts: A History, paced around my room, even more nervous... I hadn't thought that I'd be so nervous.

I finally left the house at 11:30, apparating to the shop. I had the instructions Fred had given me in my pocket, and before going to meet Fred, I glanced at them one more time.

I _really_ didn't want to get on a broom... Ever since that incident the first time I tried to play quidditch...

Since I'm such a trooper, though, I sucked it up and went around back to meet Fred. He, however, was nowhere to be found. I checked my watch – it was 11:35 AM. So Fred had another 25 minutes until he was late.

Well, not only did those 25 minutes pass, but so did another 20. It was 12:20 before Fred appeared in front of me, holding two brooms. One I immediately recognized as Fred's as he has recently been able to snag a used Nimbus 2000 for a pretty good price. I'd never seen him take such pride in anything (except maybe his jokes). He polished it almost nightly. The other broom was slightly more rundown-looking, but it didn't look too awfully unstable.

"Hermione!" he said gleefully when he saw me.

"You," I said, looking at my watch pointedly, "are late."

"I," he said, rummaging around in his pockets for something, "had some other stuff to do. I didn't think it'd take so long."

Fred pulled a few fake wands out of his pockets, a large ring of keys, at least ten canary creams, and some type of chocolate that he offered me, and I accepted.

Ha! Psyche. Gotcha. Of course I didn't take the chocolate.

He then pulled out the pair of omnioculars we had used in the last stake out. Groaning, I mumbled, "I thought I had seen the last of those dumb things."

"These dumb things are going to solve the mystery for us," Fred said, grinning. "You just wait. Today's the day. I can feel it in my bones."

"Or maybe what you're feeling is the heat index of 110," I said, rolling my eyes and taking the broom he offered me.

It _was _pretty hot outside. The sun was doing its sunshiney thing, and the humidity was doing its humid thing, and it was pretty much awful.

"And, we're off!" Fred said, pushing off from the ground and soaring into the air quickly and nimbly, disappearing into a cloud.

This was before I had even gotten my leg all the way over the broom. "FRED!" I shouted uselessly. "Come BACK you loser!"

Oh I know. My insults are cutting edge.

A flash of red hair greeted me as Fred barreled back toward the ground, making even me dizzy. Right as I thought for sure he was going to crash into the concrete, he gently put his feet down and landed softly.

"Show off," I muttered, carefully pushing off with my feet.

"Come on, Hermione, it's not that bad," he said, doing a backflip in the air.

Once I had myself steadied in the air, we slowly started ascending toward the clouds. Once or twice, Fred got ahead of me, but he would always come back and urge me on. Or make fun of my lack of flying abilities. Whatever.

After Fred cast a concealing charm on us, we waited above the shop, looking for Ron to leave.

"So," Fred said as he stared intently below us, "if you, Snape, and Filch were the last people on Earth and you were responsible for repopulating the world, who would you pick for your mate?"

"_What?_"

"If you, Snape, and Filch – "

"I heard what you said, but I'm not answering it. That's disgusting!"

"You have to. You're the last people in the world," Fred said, laughing at my outrage.

"No way. The human species can just die out then," I said, joining in with his laughter.

"Mhmm..." he said absentmindedly, still watching the door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes carefully.

"Why were you late today?" I asked, partly out of curiosity and partly out of nothing to say.

Fred turned his head slightly and looked me in the eye. "Are you going to get mad at me if I tell you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Umm... no?" I didn't _think_ so at least...

He squinted at me, as if evaluating whether or not I would, indeed, be mad. "Well, I was filling in for George."

"Why?"

"He wanted me to go on a date for him."

"_What?_"

"He made a brunch date with his current girlfriend, some chick working in the shop across from outs, but he had to go pick up orders at our suppliers. He asked if I'd go on the date for him. Save him from canceling it."

"That's awful!" I said, moving my broom slightly closer to his so that I could push his shoulder slightly. "That poor girl!"

"Please," Fred said, rolling his eyes. "If she couldn't even tell us apart then she can't be that great. It was no big deal. We went to breakfast, ate, talked, and I kissed her goodbye."

I felt a slight twang of jealousy at the last words. It's like I'm starting to think of him as _mine_. We've gotten along so well lately.

"Still," I said, "that's so wrong."

As he did a slow barrel roll, Fred shrugged. "It's wrong that she didn't even notice that I wasn't George. What kind of girlfriend is that?"

He did have a good point there. And it shut me up for a while.

After a few minutes of silence, Fred finally asked a weird question. One that I still don't know what to make of. "If you, me, and George were the last people on Earth, who would you pick to repopulate?"

I could feel my face turning red as the obvious answer screamed into my head. Of course I'd pick Fred.

But he wasn't done yet. "You don't have to say me just because I'm the one asking," he rushed on quickly. "I just wanted to know for informational purposes." The entire time, he kept his eyes on the ground, the tips of his ears slightly going red. He did a slow front flip in order to, I think, divert the attention from himself and the question at hand.

"Ummm..." I said. Witty, aren't I?

At that moment, two things happened.

One, Ron came out of the shop. Two, my broom gave a giant buck, almost like Harry's did during that one quidditch match our first year.

The first went (almost) unnoticed by Fred as my broom began to spiral insanely. Not only did I feel like I was about to throw up, I held on for dear life as the broom began to buck and sway like crazy.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" A high-pitched scream is all that would express my feelings at the moment. "What the HELL, Fred Weasley! Get me off of this damn broom!" Ok, maybe not _all_.

"I'm TRYING! Stay still!"

"Try harder dammit!" The broom began doing lazy loops in the air as I tried unsuccessfully to yank it back upright. It wouldn't do a thing I tried to tell it to do.

I have to hand it to Fred that he was trying his hardest to keep up with my broom and its strange maneuvers.

As the broom lurched forward and stopped suddenly, I felt myself get thrown off of it. My right hand was the only thing keeping me on, while my broom happily rose higher and higher into the sky. I looked down to see Fred almost directly below me.

"Drop onto my broom!" he shouted up at me, trying to position his broom in a convenient position.

"Are you insane?" I asked, which at the time seemed like a valid question.

He continued as if he hadn't heard me, "1... 2..."

I inhaled deeply.

"3!"

I closed my eyes and let go of my wildly tossing broom, which quickly rocketed into the sky, never to be seen again.

Fred's arms were around my waist as I had one leg slung over his hips in a most unladylike fashion and the other barely over the broom. My arms were around his neck as I tried to pull myself onto the broom in a more correct fashion.

"Well, hellooooo, Hermione," Fred said with his eyebrows raised. He nodded at my leg, which had still not been moved from his. He grinned wickedly and jokingly placed his hand on my knee. "Nothing like an enchanted broom to bring people together."

The look I gave him could have probably knocked him off his broom. I adjusted myself so that I was still facing him, but our knees were the only part of us really touching.

He tried to redeem himself by saying, "No, but, seriously, you okay?"

"Am I _okay_! NO, I'm not okay! Are you insane!" That was the second time in two minutes I'd asked him that, which he pointed out with glee.

"Bloody hell! What was wrong with that broom!"

Fred looked abashed as he mumbled something. When he realized I hadn't heard him, he said a little bit louder, "I think I might've mixed Ron's broom up with a new... test subject broom... I just put Ron's broom in the lab. It wouldn't've been hard to mix them up."

I was beyond rage. "FRED!"

"Whoopsy daisy."

Yeah.

He did.

He said 'whoopsy daisy.'

Of course I had to laugh at that. Why is it that I can never stay mad at the boy? Why?

"Come on," Fred said, grinning, and wrapping me in a big hug. "I'm glad you're okay."

And, suddenly, I was _really_ glad I was okay. Because if I wasn't, Fred wouldn't be able to hug me like he was. And it felt sort of nice being wrapped up in his rather large arms. All I have to say about it was that it was over way too soon.

So. A little bit embarrassing, I suppose, but not too bad up to this point. Well, just wait. It gets worse.

...To Be Continued.

**A/N: **Not the _most_ interesting chapter, but I've already got the next one written. And I think that you guys will like it. A lot. Just bear with me. I'll post it within the next few days.


	7. The Day Pigs Fly

**Commitaphobia**

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter, and I own nothing.

**Summary**: Hermione breaks up with her current boyfriend – again. It actually seems to be a bad habit of hers. However, when Fred and she go on a "secret mission," hilarity and romance ensue.

**Chapter 7**: The Day Pigs Fly

_Previously..._

_And, suddenly, I was really glad I was okay. Because if I wasn't, Fred wouldn't be able to hug me like he was. And it felt sort of nice being wrapped up in his rather large arms. All I have to say about it was that it was over way too soon._

_So. A little bit embarrassing, I suppose, but not too bad up to this point. Well, just wait. It gets worse._

Suddenly, I realized Ron was gone. In all the broom commotion, he had managed to slip away, unnoticed by us. "Ohh, no..." I said, looking down.

Fred also looked down and then glanced at me again. "_Damn_," he said.

"Language," I absentmindedly chastised him.

Fred looked at me in mock hurt. "Look who's talking," Fred said, putting on a falsetto voice and clutching his heart. "MY BROOM! FRED! Damn bloody hell fuck fuck fuck damn dammit shit damn!"

I pushed his shoulder and said, in my primmest voice, "My life was in _grave danger_ up on that insane broom that you put me on."

"Bad news, babe," Fred said, grinning, "you swear like a sailor, and you have to come to terms with that."

"Uggh, Fred Weasley, get me off this broom! I've had enough of brooms for my entire lifetime."

Fred gave a sweeping gesture with his hand. "As you wish, madame." He grinned and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. "Let's get you home," he said into my ear.

I smiled against his chest as he lightly rested his chin on my head and kept one hand around me while maneuvering the broom with the other hand. He really is a nice guy, and I told him so as we landed on firm solid ground. His cheeks turned slightly pink as he smiled at me and offered his arm.

"What do you say we go to dinner, Hermione?" Fred asked. "You can shake off this whole broom incident."

"I think I'd like that very much, Fred."

And so off we went, strolling along in Diagon Alley. It was sort of strange. We went into some low key pub-type place with dim lighting and smoke so thick that I found it a bit hard to breathe.

"Cute place," I mumbled to myself as we sat down, but Fred grinned at me.

"Just wait 'til you try the food."

A jolly old man named Bob was our waiter. He had a large stomach and a bald head. The only hair he had, in fact, were his two very white eyebrows that protruded in all directions from his face. "Weasley!" he said joyously, clapping Fred on the back. "Which one're you, anyways?"

"I'm Fred, Bob," Fred said, in a voice slightly louder than he would normally use, which led me to believe that Bob was a bit hard of hearing.

"Ohh, Fred, good man, you are! And who's the lucky lady?" he asked Fred, but looked at me.

"This is Hermione," Fred said smiling at me.

"Lovely young woman. Respectable. I can tell. I have an eye for people. Couples, really. You two will be happy together."

"Oh, no, we're not – " I started to say, but Fred cut me off.

"We already are very happy," Fred said reaching across the table and squeezing my hand. "She finally snagged me. You know me, I didn't want to, but she had to put her foot down." He grinned cheekily and winked at me.

Bob looked at me with a huge smile on his face. "Fantastic!" he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "That is fan-bloody-tastic!" He took our order and walked away, mumbling to himself.

When he was out of earshot, I kicked Fred under the table and took my hand out of his grasp. "What was _that_ Fred?"

Fred shrugged and took a sip of his water. "Makes the old guy happy. Everytime I come in here he wants to know if I've settled down. I figured this was my opportunity to say yes so that he'd stop bugging me."

I didn't know what to think about that. I know that Fred likes to have fun, but the way my hand felt in his... It was weird. I don't like Fred. I _know_ that I don't, yet there was that weird spark of _something_ there. What was it? "Frisson" is what my old chemistry teacher calls it. Frissonis a bitch, kids.

Then our food came and Fred kept trying to hold my hand under the table or play with my feet, which was just weird. Well, in my mind it was weird. But it felt so... _okay_. Normal, even. As if this was what we did every Friday night.

When it was time to pay, Fred wouldn't let me pay. He wouldn't even go dutch with me. He insisted on paying for my entire meal. It was so.. nice of him. I mean, I've always known he was nice, but chivalrous, too? Who knew?

As we left the restaurant, Bob waved goodbye, and Fred put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him in a big gesture. "Lovebirds," Bob said happily as we walked out.

When we got onto the street it was a sticky-type of hot, and we apparated quickly back to his house. We were in the den alone at this point, and I flopped down onto the couch in front of the merrily crackling fire. "I'm exhausted," I said, closing my eyes for a second.

Fred threw himself onto the couch next to me, casually throwing his arm over my shoulders like he had in the restaurant. This time, though, it was natural, as if he hadn't even thought about doing it... it just happened.

It was so relaxing to be in front of the fire like that against Fred, who was warm and smelled really good, like aftershave and something else that I couldn't place, but it smelled so uniquely _Fred_ that I loved it.

"So," Fred began, kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of him, "you never answered my question. Me, you, and George. Who would you pick?"

It took me a second to re-register Fred's question. I looked up at him to find that he was already looking down at me. Our eyes locked for a second (have I mentioned his eyes before? They are so nice... blue and green and so, so i_ntense_), and I could barely get out the word, "You" before suddenly his lips were on mine.

That's right. There's the kicker.

He kissed me. He started out tentatively, but when I wrapped my arms around his neck, he began more assuredly. I don't know what in the world came over me, but I pressed myself against him, wanting to feel every curve of his body.

He gently turned his body and laid me along the couch, without ever once breaking our lip contact. Fred slid his tongue into my mouth so skillfully that I couldn't help wondering how many other girls he'd done this with. Then I found myself not caring.

Everything felt so _right_. One of his arms bracing his body above mine while the other tremblingly touched my cheek. His legs entwined with mine. My hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

Like I said, I don't know what I was thinking. Something came over me, and I couldn't stop it even if I had wanted to.

Fred apparently could though.

After probably only five minutes, he pulled back, breathing heavily. He looked into my eyes, and instead of seeing the half-lidded expression I'm sure I had on, his eyes were wide with panic. He clumsily pushed himself off of me and stumbled backwards, almost tripping over the coffee table.

"Oh, God, Hermione," he said, running his hand through his hair and looking down at his shirt, which had somehow come unbuttoned revealing his chest and a light smattering of freckles. "Oh, God," he repeated. "I – I can't. We can't. I – we – _I_ have to go."

With that, he apparated out of the room with a pop.

So that's how he left me, still, on the couch, trying to pull down my shirt which had become extremely wrinkled.

See? See what I mean. It's _me_ that's so much less sexy than anything else in the world. Me.

I don't know what I did. Maybe I was a bad kisser. Maybe he just made a mistake. To be honest, I haven't seen him all day long. Not that I've been looking. I so, so, so have NOT been. I've been in my room for the most part, alternately trying to answer the ridiculous ministry internship questionnaire and writing in this book about yesterday's fiasco.

_Hermione Granger_

**June 20th – 5:00 PM – Same.**

_1. How many hours a week can you devote to the Ministry of Magic's esteemed internship?_

As many as necessary... At least 8 hours a day... Well. At one time I might've said as many necessary. Now, I have to say as many necessary except for those I'm spending in an attempt to sabotage one of my best friend's relationships. Bloody hell.

_2. What are your qualifications for the Ministry of Magic's internship position?_

After five years at Hogwarts School of Withcraft and Wizardry... Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has adequately prepared me to handle... I have often worked with... I can actually do quite a lot with plotting and what not. I would've never thought that I could, but it is an area that I truly excel in. I'm good at keeping secrets, too. What's that? Minister of Magic is a transvestite? No worries, your secret's safe with me.

_3, Why do you want to be an intern at the Ministry of Magic?_

Throughout my years as a student, I have always admired... After graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I hope to... So I can do the Minister of Magic. I hear it puts you in a serious position of power.

_4. If you were to not receive this internship, what would the reason be?_

I think that if I did not receive this internship, it would be based on my take charge attitude... The quality that may first and foremost prevent me from receiving an... I have this bad tendency to be a controlling bitch that can't keep her own plans straight. I also sometimes lash out at other people when I'm mad. I made out with a boy yesterday. Interns don't do that either.

_5. Do you support the Ministry of Magic in all its endeavors? (Check box yes or no)_

Yes ­­­­­**X** No

**June 21st – 9:00 AM – The Bathroom**

I still haven't seen Fred since the fiasco. Why not? Is he mad at me? I'm willing to admit that it was wrong...

Was it _that_ bad?

**June 21st – 9:20 AM – The Bathroom**

It's not like I like him or anything.

**June 21st – 9:24 AM – The Bathroom**

I really don't.

**June 21st – 9:26 AM – The Bathroom**

Reasons I Should Not Like Fred:

1. He's an audacious flirt.

2. He's too loud. How would I be able to think when he's around?

3. He has that infuriating way of proving me wrong.

4. He's too tall. I'm dwarfed next to him. 5'11" is my cut-off. He's 6'0.

5. He would never like me. Seriously. The day he likes me is the day pigs fly.

6. His eyes are too penetrating. I can't be with someone who knows everything about me with one glance of their eyes. Creepy.

7. He's probably skinnier than me.

8. When he touches me I get all tingly. That can't lead up to a healthy relationship, right?

9. His hair does that irritating... yet adorable... thing where it falls in his eyes.

Ok. That's it. That's a pretty long list. I've got tons of reason why I should avoid him at all costs.

**Later**

I think.

**Later still**

Seriously though. I don't like him.

**June 21st – 10:30 – Still the bathroom**

OK! FINE! I'll admit it! Happy? I, Hermione Granger, like – love? – Fred Weasley. Yes, ok? Yes. It's true. I am hopelessly, madly, head-over-heels crazy in love with him. I probably always have been, too. Why else would I have bickered with him endlessly since he first began breaking rules when I was a first year? Why else would I always have that small pang of jealousy when I saw him with a girl? And why else did his loathing of school bother me so much?

There's really only one explanation for it...

What's worse about this admission is what comes along with it. Finally admitting it means that I also have to admit to myself that I can't have him. He'll never like me. I will always be his little brother's little friend to him. Sure, we are partners-in-crime at the moment, but what's going to come of that? The day that he likes me is the day pigs fly.

I know that he kissed me, but he _clearly_ proved that he didn't mean to. It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. A mistake. We've all had them... where it just feels right, but it's really oh-so-wrong.

Plus, as I've mentioned earlier, we're both commitaphobic people. What kind of couple would we make? A bad one.

Sadly enough.

I hate this.

So, here's to hoping for the day pigs fly,

_Hermione Granger_

**A/N**: I hope you guys liked it... I decided to finally give you guys some solid fluff. Like before, I have the next chapter almost complete and it'll be posted really soon! Review por favor?


	8. Dropped Like a Hot Potato

**Commitaphobia**

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Harry Potter, and I own nothing.

**Summary**: Hermione breaks up with her current boyfriend – again. It actually seems to be a bad habit of hers. However, when Fred and she go on a "secret mission," hilarity and romance ensue. Moderate language.

**Chapter 8**: Dropped Like a Hot Potato

**_June 23rd – In my room – 10:20 PM_**

I haven't written in this book in quite a while... there wasn't really much to tell, honestly.

Until now.

I've been bumming around waiting for that dratted letter from the Ministry to come. (It should be here tomorrow!) And I still hadn't really seen Fred at all for the past two days. From other members in the family I'd heard that he and George were busy with the shop.

Once we came down for the same time at breakfast, but he basically ignored me. He stood there talking to George and didn't even sit down to eat. He grabbed a piece of toast, and the two apparated away.

Actually, most everyone has been rather avoiding me. I guess I haven't been in the best of moods lately since I've been waiting for the answer from the Ministry.

So you can probably imagine my surprise when someone came a-knockin' on my door about an hour ago. I opened it up, expecting Mrs. Weasley or maybe Ginny. (Ginny, however, was supposed to be with Harry for most of the night. Whatever they're doing I _don't_ want to think about).

But no. It was neither Mrs. Weasley nor Ginny.

It was probably my least favorite person ever. That's right. Fred.

And what a sight he was. His vibrant hair, normally clean and at least brushed, was sticking up in odd directions, and his freckled skin was now spattered with dirt as well. What concerned me the most, though, was the rapidly swelling black eye he had.

Forgetting all pretenses of hating him, I took his hand and pulled him inside of the room, shutting the door behind him. "Oh my God! What happened to you!"

Fred looked at the floor. "I attempted a solo mission, which I had to abort. It was an unfortunate situation."

"Fred Weasley! What did you _do_?"

The tips of Fred's ears turned pink as he hung his head. "Can we not talk about this now? I'm an ill man, Hermione! I need care! A foot rub! Some soup!"

"What you need is medication," I muttered as I conjured a bag of frozen peas. "Well, since you're here, why don't you lie down." I made a vague gesture toward my bed, and he flopped on top of the covers.

"The pain might just be too much," Fred said, closing his eyes and using his feet to kick down the comforter of my bed.

"Fred, all you have is a black eye." I pressed the peas firmly onto the swollen bruise, and Fred yelped.

"Ow, Hermione! That hurts!" Fred pushed my hand away and used his arms to cover his face.

"You are such a baby. This is ridiculous. Now let me put this on your eye."

"Are you kidding me! No! Ow, Hermione! Wait, don't pinch me! OW! Fine, put the damn bag on it. See if I care."

I smugly applied the bag to his eye once again. "Sometimes good old fashioned muggle methods work the best."

I believe he said something along the lines of, "Muggle methods my ass," but I couldn't be sure. Now both of his eyes were closed, and he seemed to slowly relax.

He looked so peaceful like that. Until he said, "Hermione, I think you need to tuck me in."

"I will do no such thing."

He opened his one good eye and tried to look hurt. "I'm a dying man, Hermione. My last wishes need be fulfilled for my soul to rest in peace."

Putting my hands on my hip, I tapped my foot. "No."

Fred used the hand that was not holding the peas in place to clutch his shirt where his heart was. "It's ok. I understand. Know that in Heaven, when I look down on you, I will not remember you as the cold-hearted wench that wouldn't tuck me in. I'll remember the happier times when we worked side by side in all our endeavors. Do me one small favor, and tell everyone I love them. Tell George he can have my things. All of them."

I threw my hands in the air. "FINE! I'll tuck you in. Dammit."

Not-so-gently, I reached to unbutton his shirt. The only problem was that as my fingers grazed his skin, I swear I felt sparks fly. Why is he so intense? So I moved as quickly down the buttons as I could, careful not to touch him anymore than I had to. During all of this, Fred lay on the bed with his eyes closed (one forced so by the swelling and the other one enjoying his current situation of using power over me).

When I reached the last button, I instructed, "Arms up," and Fred helped me to pull off the shirt by lifting his back enough for me to pull it around him. I folded it and set it on the bureau.

Ok, don't tell anyone, but that shirt is now IN that bureau. I decided to take it. It's a simple navy blue collared shirt, but it looked nice on him besides the dirt from whatever kind of fight he got in. That, and it smells like him. I still can't quite peg the scent that's so uniquely him, but it's definitely the best smell in the world. I promise.

So, after undressing him, I couldn't help but admire his body for a brief moment. He had a slight farmer's tan, but it wasn't too bad. And, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, he was nicely cut. Not like huge ripples of sinewy muscle or anything, just soft lines of definition. I think I like it better like that.

Before he could catch me staring, though, I took the sheets and placed those over his torso, and lightly tucked them under him. Next, I folded the blanket over him as well.

Fred opened his good eye and looked at me tiredly with a slight smile on his face. He reached up and took the peas off of his eye, handing the bag to me. I threw it away and came back, looking down at him.

"I'm glad you're so good to me," he said, as his eyes fluttered closed. He was asleep.

I squeezed his hand lightly and kissed him on the cheek. I couldn't help it. It's not like he was awake to witness it. But... I don't know if I imagined it or not. As my lips left his skin, a small smile came across his face and then vanished. Like lightning. But my imagination does tend to go wild.

I wonder what happened to him. He must've gotten into a fight of some kind, but he didn't seem too much worse for wear. I mean, if he only came out of it bruised, he must've won the fight, right?

Laying there, he looks so peaceful. It's adorable. People never look as innocent as they do when they're sleeping. It's a fact. I almost can't stand seeing him like that because it makes me _think things_ that I shouldn't be thinking. Such as what it would be like to wake up to him like that every morning.

Why are boys so damn confusing?

The last time I saw him, he was running from me like I had the black plague. Now, he's treating me as if nothing even happened. I don't understand it! Maybe... maybe he just needed time away from me. I was such a bad kisser that he couldn't bear to look at me without laughing. Or – OR – maybe he just needed to forget about my stunning good looks and charm.

Psyche.

Bah! I need to go to sleep. Except... where? Fred's in my bed... Ah, damn.

_Hermione Granger_

**_June 24th – In the bathroom – 10:00 AM_**

I ended up sleeping on the floor. I was going to sleep in Ginny's bed, but I didn't want her to return and have to sleep on the ground. I'd feel bad.

The thing is, though, I didn't wake up on the floor. I woke up in my bed. And I think I know how I got there. I vaguely remember someone with red hair and big, strong arms gently lifting me onto the bed sometime in the early hours of this morning. Then again, I was so sleepy I don't even remember if that was a dream or not. I can never separate dreams from reality at night. It's sort of frustrating.

Fred did leave me a note on my bureau that said, (and I quote), "Hermione – Thanks so much for taking such good care of me last night. Sorry to have imposed. I have to go to the store now, but I'll be back tonight, and I'll tell you what I _did_ find out on that solo mission of mine. You're the best, Fred"

I'll admit it, I had hoped that he would've maybe signed it _Love, Fred_ or _Yours and only yours, Fred_ or maybe even _Take me now, Fred_, but I would take what I could get. Because he thinks I'm the best (!). How awesome is that?

Oh, the smallest things put me in a good mood.

_Hermione Granger_

**_June 24th – Bathroom again – 10:52 AM_**

Harry says that he thinks something's up with Ron too. I think he knows something that he's not telling though. He acted all fidgety and then changed the subject when I brought it up.

What's he hiding?

**_June 24th – My room – 2:00 PM_**

I GOT IN! I GOT INTO THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC INTERNSHIP! I START IN A WEEK!

AHHHHHH!

I don't even know how to describe my excitement! Do you know what this means! It means...

It means no more Fred. Will I have the time for him when I'm there five days a week? I most certainly won't have all the time for the missions...

Ahh! Why didn't I think of this? I've wanted this so bad, but now I'm not so sure... Because, as nice as it would be to work at the Ministry of Magic, I don't want to not be with Fred.

Am I turning into one of _those_ girls? The ones that plan their lives around boys?

NO.

I am not.

I am going to do whatever the _hell_ I want because I am a goddamn professional. That's right. Maybe I won't have as much time with Fred, but that could be a good thing. Because I need time away from him so that I can forget about him and his freak-like attitude of snogging me senseless one minute and then dropping me like a hot potato the next.

_Hermione Granger_

**_June 24th – In the den – 11:31 PM_**

Oh my goodness! Fred just told me what happened yesterday and you won't believe it! He's in the kitchen right now making lemonade for us while we figure out the next step of the plan. I just had to write this down before he –

**_June 25th – In the (you guessed it) bathroom – 1:00 AM_**

Fred and I _just_ finished plotting. Sorry about the last entry. He started coming into the room, and I didn't want him to see me writing because he'd know I was writing about him.

Well, to make a long story short. Fred's an idiot. A _huuuuge_ idiot.

He ended up getting home last night around 9:00 PM or so, along with George. Mrs. Weasley made them eat dinner, practically force feeding them.

"Mum, we're really not hungry."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes flashed. "So what, you two get a job and suddenly my food isn't good enough for you?"

"No!" The two said together, exchanging semi-worried glances.

"It's just that – " Fred began, winking at me as he talked. I stood by the counter, as far away from the wrath of Mrs. Weasley as I could get.

"We didn't think – " George continued.

"You'd want us to eat so late at night." Fred finished.

"After all, eating past 7 is a leading cause of obesity in today's society," George went on. "You see there's – "

"Not enough time to burn off the fat before sleeping." Fred grinned at me. Battle won.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to soften. "Well I suppose we can make an exception for this time. But. For the rest of the week I want you two home for dinner." Fred opened his mouth to protest. "Don't forget to put something on that eye of yours. And that's the end of it!" She turned to walk out of the kitchen. War won.

Fred and George looked at each other and sighed. I came to the table and began cleaning up for them, putting their dishes in the sink and scrubbing the table as they talked business. If George was wondering why I was still hovering around them, he didn't say anything.

At 9:30 or so, George gave me a meaningful glance and then looked at Fred, eyebrows raised. "I'm going to bed, mate. See you in the morning."

Fred put his feet up on the table, watching George leave with his eyes. When George was completely up the stairs and we heard the door click, Fred dropped his feet and leaned forward, studying me.

"So you want to hear what happened?" Fred asked, indicating his still swollen eye.

What a stupid question. "Ummm... _yes_."

Fred looked at his hands before looking up at me. Probably for the first time ever, I think Fred was _embarrassed_.

"Well, I came up with an idea, after our last..." Fred stumbled here, "mission."

I felt my face burn red as I remembered how our last mission ended.

"But it was a solo mission. And a little risky. So I figured I should just do it alone. No need to – er – bother you."

"Right," I said. I wondered if the image of our far-too-closely pressed bodies was emblazoned in his mind as it was in mine.

"So, here was the original plan: I thought I'd take things from a different angle, you know? See if Ellen knew if anything was up. Because this whole thing is just getting weirder and weirder. I figured I'd just put on a mask (mistake one), follow her 'til she was alone (mistake two), and then approach her and just ask her a few questions (mistake three)."

Fred paused.

"Well? What happened?" I pestered, already seeing the flaws in his plans.

"So, I put on a ski mask."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"Oh no."

"Yeah. I should've known better, but I put on a ski mask so I looked like a crazed stalker, and I put a stealth charm on myself. I then proceeded to follow her for five long hours as she shopped around Diagon Alley. Hermione, you'd have thought she just won the lottery she was so happy. Going into clothing stores and picking out... lacey unmentionables in _black_. Matching sets."

"Wait," I interrupted, "so what if they're black and matching?"

"Well, it means that... you know. She's going to... you know."

"Oh."

"Right, so, like I was saying, she looked so _happy_. And then she went into the men's robes department and picked out these incredibly nice burgundy robes. Then she had them gift wrapped. In happy birthday paper." Fred added the last part with a strange emphasis.

"So?" I asked again.

"Hermione, Ron's birthday is in _January_."

"They could've been for her dad. Or her brother. Or a friend. Or – "

"Hermione," he interrupted, "She bought matching boxers for the robes."

"Oh," I said... again.

"Yeah, so I followed her and her kid sister around for a good, long time. I thought she'd never get tired of shopping. Until she did. By then, it was dusk, and the sun had started to set. She walked through a small alley to get to a fire she could floo with.

"Stupid me, I thought that this was my chance. So I undid my stealth charm and said, 'Ellen, can I speak with you for a moment?'"

"Did you take off the ski mask?"

"No."

"Nice one, Fred. Did she think you were going to attack her?"

"Yes. Before I could get another word out, she had her wand pointed at me, hexing me into oblivion. Whatabitch. Then, to add insult to injury, her kid sister ran up and punched me in the eye – "

"Wait, are you trying to tell me that _this_," I indicated the Fred's black eye, "is from an eleven-year-old?"

"Ummm... yeah."

I tried to stop myself. I really did. But I couldn't. I started cracking up. I actually don't think I've laughed that hard in a long time. When I first saw the bruise, I had thought Fred had gotten in a fight with a huge guy, 6'5", maybe 6'6", with a name like Slugger. Too bad he had gotten in a fight with an eleven-year-old girl named Becca.

When I pointed this out to him, judging by his sour expression, he was not amused. This made me laugh even harder.

Eventually, he gave in and cracked a slight smile. "Maybe it's a little bit funny," he allowed.

I leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder to steady myself, when I realized that this was almost the exact same position we had been in _that_ night. I stopped laughing quicker than you could say, "Make-out session in your parent's house." I pushed myself as far away from him as I could on the couch. I didn't want Fred to have any reason to stop talking to me again for another three days.

Fred looked at me strangely. For a second I could swear that his eyes held not only confusion but – could it be? – hurt. I don't know. I was imagining it.

He continued talking. "Anyways, after that, I had three legs, strange boils growing on my back, and a black eye. I managed to get rid of the first two when I found my wand, but there was really nothing to do for the eye. So I decided it was time I went to you and told you what had happened. And the new information about Ellen."

I leaned against the arm of the couch to think. How could things have become so complicated when all Fred and I wanted to do was bust Ron. All of the sudden _Ellen_ was cheating too?

Where was this coming from? I needed paper and a quill to brainstorm. I told Fred this, and I could see him desperately wanting to laugh.

"What's so funny about wanting to jot down a few ideas?" I asked, a bit annoyed.

"Nothing! It's just so – classically _you_, Hermione. I like it." He leaned forward and ruffled my hair before going into the kitchen to get some lemonade and a pad of paper for me.

That's where I wrote in this book the last time, but he came back in before I could finish writing.

He handed me a glass of lemonade and set the rest of the pitcher on the table (without anything under it, leaving a ring of water on his mom's wooden coffee table) along with a plate of cookies.

Looking at the paper in my hand and the quill in my other, I began scribbling down different thoughts and things to consider.

"What're you writing?" Fred asked me, taking my forearm in his hand and gently pulling me over to him so that he could see what was on the paper.

"Ummm..." I said.

Fred had put me in a rather compromising situation. My shoulder was touching his chest, and I was leaning against his arm, which he had around me, holding the edge of the parchment. He had his chin on my shoulder so that he could read what I had written.

"And?" he asked. "What else have you got?"

I tried desperately to come up with something witty, but it was impossible for me to think when I was so close to Fred and he smelled amazing and his beautiful hair was just touching my cheek and it felt so nice.

Ugh. I make myself sick.

"Here," he said, taking the quill from me, but keeping his arm wrapped around me. "I have an idea." And Fred began writing away on the parchment, drawing a line and starting below my previous attempts at cleverness.

He scratched away at the parchment. As he wrote, I felt his arms flexing and relaxing when he moved. It did funny things to my insides. This is going to sound funny, but then and there I decided I'm going to somehow make this boy fall for me. Somehow.

We spent the rest of the night trying to hammer out the plan, me almost in his arms, trying to shift so that he'd perhaps see what scanty bit of cleavage that I have. (It didn't work, by the way.)

I think we've got a plan, though. Sort of. Fred still has the parchment, though, or else I'd paste it in here.

_Hermione Granger_

**_June 25th – in my room – Noon_**

I don't have much time to write, Fred and I are going into the next step of our plan sooner than expected. As in... right now.

This morning, though, I awoke to him standing in my room over me, holding the letter I had gotten from the Ministry. I automatically looked over to Ginny's bed, but she wasn't there. Probably in the shower.

"You didn't tell me you got accepted to the internship!" Fred said, grinning. "That's awesome!"

I grumpily looked at my watch. It was 6:30 in the morning. "Do you know what time it is?" I asked, trying to roll over and go back to sleep.

"Yes, I do, sleepyhead. Get up!" Fred went to the foot of my bed and yanked the covers off of me.

I curled up into a ball and squeezed my eyes shut. I was tired, and Fred knew that it was late before I had gotten to bed.

"Up, up, up!" Fred said, slapping me lightly on my bottom.

I rolled back over and tried to smack him for that, but he leapt easily out of my grasp. I sighed and gave into the fact that I'd be getting up. As I stood, I realized the situation of my dress – or undress.

I barely had on a tanktop and a pair of the shortest shorts I owned. Bloody perfect. So I crossed my arms and glared at him.

Fred backed away, noticing my ominous look. I would've been scared too. I'm sure my hair was sticking up in all directions, and I must've looked half-dead.

Then, against his better judgment, I'm sure, he jumped forward and wrapped me in a big hug, swinging me around. "Congratulations! I know how much you wanted to be in this internship thing" he sang into my hair, twirling.

Why can he always make me smile?

Putting me down, Fred said cheerily, "Come get breakfast when you're done getting dressed!" He left the room, shutting the door as he went.

As I got dressed, I told myself that I chose the shirt with the lowest cut neckline because it was the first thing in my closet and not because I had any desire to impress Fred with my chest size. Or lack there of.

I attempted to comb my hair, gave up, and put it in a ponytail.

When I got downstairs, Harry and Ron exchanged looks at my attire. "What's the occasion?" Harry asked.

I shrugged. "Nothing. Just felt like it."

Fred barely looked up. He could've cared less if I had a brown paper bag over my head.

Mission failed.

_Hermione Granger_

**AN:** Ok, so no crazy-good cliffhanger this time, but the next chapter will have more fluff, as I know that's what you guys want. And, also, I reply to all my reviewers, but for some reason some of them are getting sent back to me. It's weird. If you don't get a reply, let me know, and I'll try forwarding it to you again. Sorry again that it's taken so long to update, but it might be like that for a while. Summer's here, but that means I have 5 horses to ride and train a day, and I don't know that I'll have nearly as much time on my hands anymore. I promise you guys this story will get finished. Just expect a few slight delays on updates. It will never be longer than two weeks, though, I promise.


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